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Almeida, Onésimo Teotónio, Açores, Açorianos, Açorianidade: um espaço cultural (Chaves Tesser) 679-80

Anderson, Andrew A., ed., Diván del Tamarit, Seis poemas galegos, Llanto por Ignacio Sánchez Mejías (Colecchia) 671-72

Anderson, Andrew A., Lorca's Late Poetry (Colecchia) 671-72

Debicki, Andrew P., Ángel González (Jiménez) 676

DiSalvo, Angelo, J. Cervantes and the Augustinian Religious Tradition (Damiani) 668

Foard, Douglas F., The Revolt of the Aesthetes: Ernesto Giménez Caballero and the Origins of Spanish Fascism (Johnson) 672-73

Guardiola Alcover, Conrado, La verdad actual sobre los Amantes de Teruel. Orientación de los estudios amantísticos (Ihrie) 669-70

Johnson, Carroll B., Don Quixote: The Quest for Modern Fiction (Friedman) 668-69

Jordan, Barry, British Hispanism and the Challenge of Literary Theory (Roberts) 678-79

Lértora, Juan Carlos, Tipología de la narración: A propósito de Torrente Ballester (Ortega) 674-75

Martínez, José Enrique, Antología de la poesía española (1939-1975)[Pritchett] 673

Navajas, Gonzalo, Pío Baroja (Landeira 670 Ortega, José, Conciencia estética y social en la obra de García Lorca (Jerez-Farrán) 671-72

Pérez, Janet, and Stephen Miller, eds., Critical Studies on Gonzalo Torrente Ballester (Jones) 673-74

Rodríguez, Claudio Fer, Poesía Galega. Crítica e metodoloxía (Robatto) 677-78

Rodríguez, Jesús, El sentimiento del miedo en la obra de Miguel Delibes (Sullivan) 675

Valis, Noël and Carol Maier, eds., In the Feminine Mode: Essays on Hispanic Women Writers (Brown) 676-77

Viera, David J., Geoffrey L. Gomes, Adalino Cabral, eds., The Portuguese in the United States: A Bibliography (Chaves Tesser) 679-80

Bonifaz, Óscar, Remembering Rosario: A Personal Glimpse into the Life and Works of Rosario Castellanos (Palley) 682-83

Camurati, Mireya, Bioy Casares y el alegre trabajo de la inteligencia (Oberhelman) 687-88

Daydí-Tolson, S., El último viaje de Gabriela Mistral (Smith) 681-82

Dixon, Paul B., Retired Dreams. Dom Casmurro: Myth and Modernity (Ginway) 680-81

Feierstein, Ricardo, Mestizo (Lindstrom) 689-90

Floresta, Nisia, Opúsculo Humanitário (Ginway) 680-81

Forster, Merlin H., and K. David Jackson, Vanguardism in Latin American Literature: An Annotated Bibliographical Guide (Foster) 686-87

Fowlie-Flores, Fay, Annotated Bibliography of Puerto Rican Bibliographies (Woodbridge) 686

Graham, Richard, ed., The Idea of Race in Latin America, 1870-1940 (Sputa) 683

Luis, William, Literary Bondage: Slavery in Cuban Narrative (Febles) 684-85

Ortega, Julio, Crítica de la identidad: La pregunta por el Perú en su literatura (Gómez-Martínez) 685-86

Peavler, Terry J., Julio Cortázar (Lichtblau) 688

Pineda Botero, Álvaro, and Raymond L. Williams (compilers), De ficciones y realidades: Perspectivas sobre literatura e historia colombianas (McMurray) 688-89

Sigüenza y Góngora, Carlos de, and Alonso Ramírez, Infortunios de Alonso Ramírez (Morris) 680

Stephens, Thomas M., Dictionary of Latin American Racial and Ethnic Terminology (Silverman) 683-84

Alatorre, Antonio, Los 1,001 años de la lengua española (Geary) 691-92

Bauhr, Gerhard, El futuro en -ré e ir a + infinitivo en español peninsular moderno(Shreve) 694-95

Hesse, Everett W., and Catherine Larson, eds., Approaches to Teaching Spanish Golden Age Drama (Castañeda) 692-93

Lipski, John M., The Speech of the Negros Congos (Stephens) 695

Shimose, Pedro, Historia de la literatura hispanoamericana (Arrington, Jr.) 693-94

Torres, Arturo L., and Francisco Ávalos (compilers), Latin American Legal Abbreviations: A Comprehensive Spanish/Portuguese Dictionary with English Translations (Woods) 692

Wegmann, Brenda, Ocho mundos: Themes for Vocabulary Building and Cultural Awareness, 4th ed. (Berne) 690-91

Ellison, Fred P., and Naomi Lindstrom's trans. of Cunha's Woman Between Mirrors (Valente) 697-98

Fagundes, Francisco, A Poet's Way with Music (Lopes Junior) 698-99

Fagundes, Francisco and J. Houlihan, trans., Art of Music: Jorge de Sena (Lopes Junior) 698-99

González-Gerth, Miguel, trans. of Gómez de la Serna's Aphorisms (Richmond) 696-97

Patai, Daphne, ed., By the Rivers of Babylon and Other Stories (Lopes Junior) 698-99

Rabassa, Gregory, trans. of Lins's Avalovara (Larsen) 697

Rubin, Walter, trans. of Pérez Galdós's The Golden Fountain Cafe (Miller) 695-96

Watson, Ellen, trans. of Prados The Alphabet in the Park (Lindstrom) 699-700

Karl Vossler, Otis H. Green, Francisco Márquez Villanueva and Lewis Hutton, among others, have all addressed the Christian essence of Spanish literature, in general, and of the Golden Age in particular. One Renaissance author who has been widely studied from this perspective is Cervantes. Yet not until now has the reader been able to appreciate the extent of Cervantes's indebtedness to one specific spiritual current, the Augustinian religious tradition.

That theological tradition, «most extensive and all pervasive» in western European letters, as Angelo DiSalvo shows, is clearly evident in the entire corpus of Cervantes's literary productions. To understand the important role of the Augustinian tradition in Golden Age Spain and in Cervantes's writings, DiSalvo divides his study into eight chapters: 1) Augustine and Augustinianism: Christian Platonism; 2) the Augustinian-Franciscan Tradition in Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century Spain; 3) Cervantes's Christianity and the Concept of Christian Knighthood; 4) Faith over Reason: An Inner Spirituality and Christian Renewal in Cervantes; 5) Christian Dualism in Cervantes; 6) Original Sin, Grace, and Free Will: Fallen Humanity in Need of Redemption; 7) On Christian Doctrine: Christian Values and Deadly Sins; and 8) the Confessions, the City of God, and the Persiles.

The second chapter of DiSalvo's book provides the pivotal link between Cervantes and the principles of the Augustinian tradition through an examination of Golden Age translations of the major works of the Church Father as well as several ascetical-meditative devotional works known to Cervantes. Frequent references are made to these works by the novelist himself as well as by several of the characters in the Quijote. For example, references to ascetical-devotional literature occur in the Quijote at the protagonist's death and in the knight's dialogues with Diego de Miranda. Such references abound, as a close scrutiny of the text shows, with allusions to the Tratado del amor de Dios by the Augustinian Cristóbal de Fonseca and the Luz del alma by Pedro de Meneses, to mention only two.

The major part of DiSalvo's book (Chapters 3-8) is dedicated to showing how Cervantes assimilated the Augustinian religious tradition, evident in several episodes and sometimes, as DiSalvo indicates, in entire works, which illustrate the concern for faith over reason, the pilgrimage theme, Christian dualism, the heavenly vs. the earthly city, inner and affective Christianity, personal and social renewal, original sin, grace and free will. The result is a convincing effort to demonstrate that the Persiles, El rufián dichoso, and El curioso impertinente, as well as the captivity plays,

Los baños de Argel, and El trato de Argel, «are animated by religious principles that may be linked to the Augustinian tradition» (ix).

Indeed, it is interesting to note that Cervantes's relationship to Augustinian teachings should be so keenly marked both at the beginning and at the end of his literary career, in passages of La Galatea and the Persiles that clearly draw from the Confessions and the City of God. DiSalvo argues well the point that Cervantes's active spiritual life and his responsiveness to the idea of the religious, political, and moral reform of his society made him receptive to the principles espoused by the Augustinian tradition. DiSalvo's book is well written and competently researched and documented, an excellent addition to Cervantine scholarship.

Bruno M. Damiani

Catholic University of America

Its «masterworks» format notwithstanding, Carroll Johnson's Don Quixote: The Quest for Modern Fiction is a learned book, a synthesis not only of the novel but also of Johnson's critical trajectory. The study offers a general consideration of the text placed within the context(s) of history and reception. The topics that have informed Johnson's earlier work, including Madness and Lust: A Psychoanalytical Approach to Don Quixote (1983) and an impressive number of essays, frame the central chapters, which bear the title «What Happens in Don Quixote?» One could argue, perhaps, that the most difficult critical task is to «simplify» the complex structures of a text and the polemics it has inspired. Johnson emphasizes the importance of a comprehensive vision through readings which illustrate the interaction of text and context and, equally notably, through the background he provides for his own critical undertaking. Within a few pages of the introductory chapter, for example, he discusses the conflict of scholasticism and humanism, the converso and Old Christian society, and conformity and non-conformity in the Spain of 1600. He shows how a reading of Don Quixote's meeting with the Toledan traders of I: 4, to cite one case, is enhanced by a knowledge that the merchants surely would be New Christians. Analogously, the fact that Don Quixote's guide to the Cave of Montesinos is a professional humanist engaged in trivial pursuits (II: 22) may be a comment on an outdated humanism, on the absence of empirical science in Spain. Critical analysis, bound by time and individual talent, continues to define, or redefine, the novel. While Johnson applauds this openness, he warns against a value-neutral type of interpretation in which the markers of signification would tend to evaporate. Teaching the Quixote, he concludes, ultimately is teaching about being a reader.

In a single sentence, Johnson encapsulates the   —669→   intertextual paradox of the novel: «No book owes so much to preexisting literature, and no book is so different from that literature, as Don Quixote» (71). No one in the text is untouched by books, and no author is as conscious of literary tradition, and of the play and place of criticism, as Cervantes. Don Quixote enters into dialogue with the literature and the theory of his day and, precociously, with subsequent texts and theory. As the novel responds to the world, it responds, as well, to the word, to the dynamics of sign and meaning. The objects and situations which don Quixote encounters are subject to response based on the particular code to which he assigns them. The text thus juxtaposes the chivalric code with what may be termed the prosaic code of Sancho Panza. Cervantes unites matters of perception with semiotic issues, for objects are at the mercy of their beholders. It is not their essence, but their function in a semiotic field, which may change from moment to moment. For Johnson, communication brings people together, to the extent that the question of reading reality is linked inextricably to interpersonal relations, and therein lies the transition from semiotics to psychology.

Johnson has shown as brilliantly as any critic I have read the ways in which the historical record can enrich the critical act, and he is a superb close reader of fiction, but he has gained attention, and even a bit of notoriety, from the psychoanalytical «reading» of Don Quixote in Madness and Lust. He reiterates the thesis of that study in Chapter 8, entitled «People, Real and Fictional». Johnson argues that the manner in which one reads is a function of who he or she is, and Johnson's reading is unapologetically sexual in focus: «My Don Quixote is propelled backward into life by his flight from an unbearable environmental pressure personified in his niece and the threat of incest. It is because of this that he first throws himself into the reading of the romances of chivalry. When this first line of defence proves inadequate, the only mental space left to retreat into is madness. Similarly, the physical space of his house has become so erotically charged as to be uninhabitable. He absents himself mentally by losing touch with reality, and he has to get out physically as well» (118-19). There is a sense of poetic justice here. The novel which serves as a testament to reader response leads the critic to write a book certain to engage his readers and, I would suspect, to win their admiration. Despite the deceptive simplicity of the structure, and a generally light tone, this is a mature work by a major scholar.

Edward H. Friedman

Indiana University

The story of the Teruel lovers has inspired a rich literary tradition in Spain quite independent of its historical roots. The essential situation is the tragic love affair of Diego de Marcilla and Isabel de Segura. To obtain permission to marry Isabel, Diego must become wealthy within five years. He amasses sufficient riches but exceeds the time limit for doing so. Upon returning home, he finds that Isabel has married another man. The two lovers then die in quick succession from their extreme sorrow and loss, in the year 1217.

La verdad actual sobre los Amantes de Teruel is number eleven of the Cartillas Turolenses series, whose stated purpose is to publish scholarly studies regarding Teruel's history, culture and traditions for the general reader. Guardiola Alcover meets these requirements fully as he recounts the progress of scholarly opinion concerning the historicity of the Teruel lovers' tradition from the sixteenth century to the present, evaluates briefly various types of evidence extant today, and summarizes the current state of investigations.

Documentation for the tradition evolved in a reactionary way in response to moments of doubt regarding its veracity, and subjectivity at times influenced critical investigations. Certain documents were lost temporarily, others permanently. In succinct fashion, Guardiola Alcover clarifies and sets aside a great deal of critical misinterpretation. His discussion of twentieth century criticism focuses especially on the 1903 article by Galician scholar Emilio Cotarelo y Mori, which seriously challenged the historical bases of the tradition and influenced the majority of criticism until this day. Most of Cotarelo's points are successfully refuted. Of the various types of extant proof, the mainstay of support for historicity of the tradition continues to be a legal document, the protocolo. Composed in 1619, it was lost sometime between 1769 and 1806, and then rediscovered in 1958. It states that in 1619, motivated by a «certain paper», ecclesiastics excavated near the church and found petrified corpses of a man and a woman who, according to the «certain paper» were the two lovers. Subsumed in the protocolo are three other documents, namely: 1) the «certain paper», written five days earlier, which contains 2) a section written in medieval style script narrating the story of the Teruel lovers, and 3) a postscript to the story, dated 1555. Through use of a color-coded synoptic chart, Guardiola Alcover clarifies this confused embedding of multiple texts, and then reproduces the full text of the protocolo in an appendix. Also reproduced is the second oldest text supporting the tradition.

Despite its brevity, this study organizes and evaluates a great deal of material. Guardiola's discovery of a medieval reference to the Teruel lovers, in which they are listed with other historical figures of Catalan-Aragonese society, in the novel Triste deleytaçión, (written between 1548-1567) is valuable. Also persuasive is his brief comparison of the Teruel lovers' story with Boccaccio's story of Girolamo and Salvestra (written around 1350), which points to inconsistencies in Boccaccio's tale (not found in the Historia de   —670→   los Amantes de Teruel that might indicate Boccaccio's dependence on a prior text, thereby challenging the theory that the Teruel lovers' tradition was inspired by the Italian story.

Specialists might wish for more leisurely or sustained development of certain observations, particularly in the discussion of the most recent critical studies. At one point, reference is made to a comment of John G. Morton (p. 23), without supplying a source either in the text or in the bibliography. Nonetheless, one must appreciate the lucidity with which much material has been organized for the general reader.

The text is accompanied by a generous number of photographic reproductions of complementary material. Although intended for the general reader, those familiar with the literature which the tradition inspired will also find this organized overview and reconsideration of its historical bases informative.

Maureen Ihrie

Kansas State University

Pío Baroja es el novelista español más fecundo del siglo veinte, habiéndonos legado nada menos que sesenta y siete novelas escritas o, mejor dicho, publicadas entre 1900 y 1953. Medio siglo de novelar es mucho, mas también hemos de tener en cuenta que don Pío se atrevió igualmente con la poesía, todo lo urbana y prosaica que se quiera según comprobamos en sus Canciones de suburbio (1944), y con el ensayo -ora crítico ora biográfico- que culmina con sus picantes y maliciosas memorias Desde la última vuelta del camino (1944 y ss.). El total de su haber literario frisa, pues, en el centenar de tomos. Semejante prolijidad conlleva, como sería de esperar, cierta repetición de temas, situaciones y personajes cuando no ya de estructuras puesto que la inmensa mayoría de los textos barojianos son de línea abierta y de una asombrosa porosidad. No obstante esta larga y seria lista de pegas, la novelística barojiana es inesquivable y las razones son tantas como las susodichas objeciones. En primer lugar, acaso, se hallen las dotes heurísticas del autor, capaz de anécdotas y enredos que mantienen un interés primario en el discurso. En segundo lugar Baroja, que tenía verdadero horror a aburrir a sus lectores, utiliza normalmente un tempo narrativo acelerado y unos capítulos que tienden a lo breve, ganando con ambos artilugios la amenidad deseada. En tercer lugar Baroja se resistió casi siempre al vocabulario culto, declarando una y otra vez que él no usaba en sus libros palabras que no hubiese oído de niño en casa. Fuese o no verdad semejante aserto, el caso es que la ficción suya está al alcance de cualquier persona siquiera medianamente instruida. Muchas otras razones indudablemente válidas pudieran añadirse a las mías, sin embargo considero que a Baroja se le estudia hoy día mucho menos de lo que se le lee, como cuando vivía y al contrario de sus contemporáneos como Unamuno o Valle. Estos son autores de novelas-problema, o «nivolas», atentados contra el género, mientras que las de aquél son novelas puras que cuentan una(s) anécdota(s). Pío Baroja fue y sigue siendo un novelista de gran público cuyas obras mantienen en la actualidad un respetable índice de ventas, mientras que tanto las novelas de Unamuno como las de Valle (ambos de los cuales se vieron obligados a costearse por cuenta propia varias de sus obras) atraen, como antaño, a élites minoritarias.

Gonzalo Navajas, precisamente estudioso y no sólo lector de Baroja, atiende en esta coyuntura a aquellos valores que hermanan al novelista narratológicamente al resto de los noventayochistas. Dada la breve extensión de su monografía, sin embargo, el crítico se ve obligado a hacer un recorrido taxativo que apenas si tiene vagar para más de unos párrafos cuando lo que hubiera sido menester hubiese sido un capítulo o varios. Lo lamentable del caso es que sabemos que Gonzalo Navajas ha tenido que dejar mucho en el tintero por exigencias editoriales. No obstante, él ha sabido apuntar certera y perceptivamente aquellos aspectos de la narrativa de Baroja que la determinan y la caracterizan textualmente. Los capítulos «Conocimiento ético», «Protagonismo heroico» y un tercero que explora el antagonismo constante entre los antihéroes barojianos y un ideal patriótico al cual no responde España, claman al cielo por un desarrollo más completo, tantos son los aciertos apenas insinuados en ellos. En última instancia el Pío Baroja de Gonzalo Navajas es una monografía crítica sabiamente concebida pero inasequible por su virtuosismo teórico para un principiante universitario. Desafortunadamente al conocedor de la obra de Baroja le negará asimismo la satisfacción, una vez cerrado el libro, de haber terminado algo logrado y concluso. La pericia de este crítico, su dominio de la teoría literaria actual, su amor por la novela barojiana y su facilidad de expresión no bastan para que esta monografía supere su condición mutilada de mera guía de lectura cuando todo ello nos pudiera haber proveído de un tratado de envergadura de la producción novelística de Pío Baroja.

Ricardo Landeira

University of Colorado

La importancia indiscutible de la obra de García Lorca ha sido motivo de una tan creciente bibliografía que estaríamos prestos a afirmar que queda poco nuevo que decir sobre la misma. Sin embargo hay que superar la pereza mental que supone tal actitud para hallarle los recónditos significados de que está repleta la obra de tan insigne autor. Uno de los estudios que se propone aportar juicios nuevos sobre la poesía y teatro de Lorca es el reciente libro de José Ortega. Su autor propone analizar dicha obra desde una perspectiva histórico-social con el expreso propósito de mostrar que «el compromiso lorquiano... corresponde a un   —671→   deseo de superar la escisión del hombre con su entorno y consigo mismo» (9). Con dicho objetivo en mente Ortega divide la obra lorquiana en tres épocas. Los dos primeros capítulos analizan los tanteos literarios y la visión infantil del primer Lorca. Ortega ve el sentimiento popular y el primitivismo como condicionantes de su visión poética. Los seis siguientes capítulos, la parte central del libro, pretenden analizar mayormente el corpus dramático y poético del Lorca vanguardista. El objetivo principal de estos capítulos es mostrar el compromiso social que devino de «las distintas formas de alienación» (53) que Lorca presenció durante su estancia en Nueva York. Las últimas veinte páginas las dedica a comentar en términos bastante generales el teatro posterior a su viaje a América. La tesis de Ortega cara a este teatro es que el «advenimiento de la II República supone... un planteamiento social más directo de conflictos ya presentes en la obra inmediatamente anterior» (141).

El estudio es una valoración importante del contexto socio-cultural en que se encuadra la obra de Lorca. No obstante, el libro de Ortega es un libro polémico, y como pasa en toda controversia, hay motivos de discrepancia, ya que una de las cosas que se deben tener en cuenta en toda lectura socio-política o cultural de Lorca es que su obra debe su existencia a la inspiración homosexual del autor. Es una obra escrita en clave, y existe el peligro de no captar del todo su significado si no se toma en cuenta esta realidad, no porque Lorca esté describiendo experiencias homosexuales en términos heterosexuales, sino porque muchas de las preocupaciones dramatizadas por sus personajes o hablantes líricos son preocupaciones que se están refiriendo de manera codificada a su propia realidad reprimida. No tener esto en cuenta equivale a no captar del todo el significado de versos como los que Ortega cita de la «juvenilia»: «de niño yo canté con vosotros» mientras que de adulto cantaba «Yo solo con mi amor desconocido» (30); ni tampoco lo que significa esa «voz antigua/ignorante de los densos jugos amargos» que el hablante añora. Afirmar ante versos tan premonitorios de lo que ha de contener la obra más madura de Lorca que «meditar sobre la infancia es un acto que equivale a soñar, es decir, a un deseo de remontarse a los orígenes» (30) es dejar el texto a medio explicar. Ortega está bien consciente de esta dimensión de la personalidad de Lorca, pero no parece ir más allá de su pura mención, y cuando lo hace el resultado no es mucho más convincente por lo estereotipadas que son las ideas que trae a colegir. En la interpretación que hace de Así que pasen cinco años, el autor afirma que «la homosexualidad latente de El Joven y la fijación a la madre de éste es una fase según Freud, relacionada con la homosexualidad, período edípico de seducción de la madre y hostilidad al padre que ocurre entre los tres y seis años. La madre...» (85). Este tipo de análisis es difícil de aceptar hoy día, en parte porque el complejo de Edipo es una construcción teórica cuya existencia todavía no ha sido probada, y, sobre todo, porque las teorías freudianas sobre la homosexualidad revelan poco e ignoran mucho sobre el particular por estar a menudo basadas en la teoría antes que en la observación empírica. Aplicar Freud a la obra de Lorca es complicarla aún más. La necesidad imperante en la crítica lorquiana es abandonar modos de pensar estereotipados para abrir nuevos caminos de interpretación.

Carlos Jerez-Farrán

University of Notre Dame

In the «Razón de esta edición» the editor justifies the grouping of the above works in one volume by pointing out that all of them were written between 1931 and 1936. He has elected to exclude from consideration the later sonnets which will be treated in a future volume. This same exclusivity also applies to the bibliography (149-72), which has been compiled specifically for this critical edition of the works mentioned in the title.

Two substantial essays precede the presentation of the carefully edited works: «Introducción crítica» and «Estudio textual y bibliográfico». The former begins with an interesting discussion of Lorca in the thirties in which Anderson identifies five chronological phases of Lorca's literary production, the last being the period of the Second Republic, 1931-1936 -the one which concerns this tome. He chronicles the flurry of literary and cultural activities which characterizes this period in the author's life, and follows with a discussion of the individual works, their origins, and the external influences which moved the Andalusian poet/dramatist to write them. This is fascinating material, the result of Anderson's painstaking research coupled with the recollections of Lorca's peers and quotations from interviews with the author and from his letters. One point in the first essay proved a bit troublesome to this reviewer. In the first lines of the editor's discussion of the Diván he attributes the relatively scant attention this work has received from critics in part to the fact that it first appeared in the pages of an American academic journal. The editor fails to identify the journal here, or later in the essay, or in the bibliography. It is first identified in the chronology of the Diván on page 70 in the «Estudio textual y bibliográfico». This presents no difficulty to the Lorcan scholar who knows the journal as Revista Hispánica Moderna. For the interested nonspecialist, having to read the first seventy pages of the introductory material before finding the name of the review might prove disconcerting.

The second study, «Estudio textual y bibliográfico», offers an informative chronology for each of these works discussed with the exception of the   —672→   Poesías sueltas. The chronology intercalates events in Lorca's life with the writing, reading to friends, and revising of the works included here. A detailed description of the «original» manuscripts, comparisons of variant manuscripts of the same work, different titles as a specific work evolved to its final form, early publications, etc., form the body of this second essay.

The edition of the works themselves follows a format outlined in the «Plan del aparato crítico» (173-77). This begins with the «Parte histórica» which relates the steps in the evolution of a given work from the initial draft, if it exists, to the final form in which it appeared during the author's life. If, as in the case of the Diván, the work was published posthumously, then the editor traces the work to the first posthumous publication. Three more parts comprise the critical edition of each work: «Correcciones y variantes», «Puntuación», and «Clave de las siglas» which explains the symbols used.

Critical editions of literary works are invaluable to the intrinsic understanding and appreciation of a given work. Nowhere is this truer than with an author like Lorca who, unaware of his future place in world letters, failed to keep an orderly file of his manuscripts and often, without regard to their value, made a gift of them to sundry friends and acquaintances. Professor Anderson's meticulous research has resulted in a carefully crafted and welcome edition of some lesser known but nonetheless important Lorcan works.

In his companion volume, Lorca's Late Poetry, Anderson has given us the first book-length study of Lorca's poetic output between works published or revised and works written during these years. The latter concern him here. «Sonetos», including the «Sonetos del amor oscuro» replace the «Poesías sueltas» found in the earlier volume. A translation of the poems discussed here (417-45) and a bibliography (447-62) complete this study.

An introductory chapter briefly reviews existing critical studies of this aspect of Lorca's opus. The author discounts the critical methodologies currently in vogue to concentrate on «... the individual text considered as a substantially autonomous, meaningful unit» (3). In so doing, the author subscribes to the so-called «Practical» or «New Criticism» in which the critic focusses on enabling «... the reader to understand and enjoy, or understand and enjoy better than before» (4) the work studied.

Subsequent chapters deal with the Diván, the Llanto, Seis poemas galegos, the Sonetos, and finally, «Conclusions». In all but the last two chapters introductory material precedes the close reading of each poem which forms part of the larger work. Given the paucity of critical attention allotted to this poetry, Anderson has concentrated on a necessary elucidation of it. In the process he not only celebrates the achievements of Lorca's mature verse, but also takes note of its shortcomings.

This is a meticulously researched, carefully wrought assessment of Lorca's later poetry elaborated upon the background of the literary and cultural activities which concerned Lorca during these years. One may not necessarily agree with some of the author's conclusions. Nonetheless, one cannot deny that this volume, together with the preceding one, ably fills a gap in Lorcan scholarship.

Francesca Colecchia

Duquesne University

Originally published as Ernesto Giménez Caballero (o la revolución del poeta): Estudio sobre el nacionalismo cultural hispánico en el siglo XX (Madrid: Instituto de Estudios Políticos, 1975), this English-language version has been some what revised, primarily in an epilogue on Giménez Caballero's activities during the Franco regime. It is a valuable chronicle of the life and thought of a man who participated in and was a sometime leader of both the vanguardist and fascist movements in Spain. Although Giménez Caballero can hardly be considered a major Spanish writer (even by his own admission), this account of his life and works makes an important contribution to our understanding of the Spanish and European twenties and thirties, when in the wake of World War I, intellectuals and writers were motivated to find a radically new solution to the structure of society; the enemy for both the right and the left was bourgeois liberalism. While Spanish activists and writers on the left have received ample scholarly attention, very little has been paid to those on the right.

Foard divides his study into six chapters and the epilogue mentioned above. The first chapter on antecedents to Giménez Caballero's mature thought is the least likely to please most Hispanists as, in attempting to link Giménez Caballero to some of the ideas of the Generation of '98, Foard rather oversimplifies that group's very heterogeneous and evolving ideologies. He relies heavily on Laín Entralgo's account of the Generation which conveniently forwards his design of casting Giménez Caballero in the role of grandson to the '98. But, as we move into the actual intellectual biography in Chapters 2 through 6, the information has for the most part withstood the test of time. The one exception is Foard's comments on modernism, which he does not capitalize and thus must considered to be a direct translation of modernismo. Since Foard is a historian, not a literary scholar, it is perhaps unfair to ask him to be familiar with the recent debates in Hispanic circles about the meaning and relative merits of the terms modernismo and Modernism or to recognize that employing the term post-modernism to mean after modernismo sounds peculiar.

Chapter 2 takes up Giménez Caballero's university years (he studied with Ortega, Américo Castro and Manuel García Morente) and his term of military service in Morocco. The latter experience, about which he wrote Notas marruecas, set him   —673→   upon the course of political commentary which was at the center of his long career in Spanish letters. One of Foard's principal theses is that La Gaceta Literaria, which «El Gece» (as Giménez Caballero became known in Madrid) founded and edited, despite its many disclaimers, always reflected an active political posture. The first-hand view of the Moroccan debacle awakened Giménez Caballero's nationalist sentiments that were at the heart of his politics for the rest of his life. Chapter 3 chronicles «El Gece's» vanguardist period, especially the founding of La Gaceta Literaria and its early association with ultraísmo, futurism, surrealism and the hallowed members of the Generation of '27. Chapter 4 focuses on Giménez Caballero's conversion to fascism while on a trip to Italy in 1928, after which (Chapter 5) the fortunes of La Gaceta Literaria declined as it became increasingly associated with its editor's new political views. Expanding from notions of Iberian unity and then Latin unity (including Italy), in the early 1930s (Chapter 6), Giménez Caballero embraced the idea of a new Empire of Charles V that would include Germany (Hitler's successes removed his long-standing aversion to northern Europe, making way for a vision of a united fascist Europe). Chapter 6 also sketches Giménez Caballero's on-again, off-again relationship with Primo de Rivera's Falange. The Falangist emphasis on internal Spanish nationalism collided head-on with Giménez Caballero's imperialist dream.

Hispanists should overlook the outdated views of Spanish literary movements, the occasional awkward translation, the misspelling of greguería (66) and the renaming of C. B. Morns (74) and treat Foard's study as an invitation to further penetrate the origins of an ideology and movement that, however unpalatable, did dominate Spanish political and cultural history for an extended portion of the twentieth century.

Roberta Johnson

University of Kansas

José Enrique Martínez's classroom edition, designed primarily for Spanish high-school students, offers an excellent selection of poems as well as a sound appraisal of trends in Spanish poetry during the period 1939-1975.

The critical portion of the book begins with a chronological outline of major historical, cultural, and literary events. The historical section, which lists such relevant events as the Ley de Ordenación Universitaria of 1943, the strikes and student protests of 1961, the Plan de Desarrollo Económico of 1964, and the Ley Orgánica del Estado of 1966, provides a useful socio-political context for the literary trends discussed in this volume. The inclusion of many events of global import permits the accomplishments of Spanish postwar writers to be viewed within an international milieu. The cultural and literary events, on the other hand, are exclusively Spanish and highlight the lives and works of postwar poets (writers who published their most important works after the end of the Civil War). In this regard, readers who seek an understanding of Spanish trends within a broader, Western context, may wish for more balance. It would be helpful, for example, to see the names and works of Spanish poets placed side by side with those of their contemporaries in other European countries, Latin America, and the United States.

The nearly thirty-page introduction summarizes major currents (garcilasismo, poesía social, poesía existencial), minor currents (postismo, surrealismo, verse by the «Cántico» group), and poetry of the sixties and seventies. Though Martínez's materials are not new, his presentation is clear, accurate, and interesting. Also to his credit, his evaluations of the various trends are impartial. Some readers may take exception, however, to his description of the novísimos as «un grupo juvenil cuyos rasgos más relevantes -exhibicionismo cultural y esteticismo- resultaban, a pesar de todo, extremadamente novedosos» (40) or to his labeling of their first works -works that include Gimferrer's Arde el mar and Camero's Dibujo de la muerte- as «algarabía» (40). Such statements aside, the introductory essay is, in general, unbiased and insightful. Equally useful are the footnotes, bibliography, critical excerpts, and the author's suggestions for studying the poems.

The poems in Martinez's collection are aesthetically pleasing, and readers who approach this book with previously formed, negative views of poesía social may find these views seriously challenged. Perhaps for this and other reasons teachers of contemporary Spanish poetry may wish to examine this volume. The book's only significant short-coming is the absence of poetry by women. It is regrettable that an anthology containing poems by thirty-eight writers excludes the important women poets of the postwar era. Even better-known women poets, such as Gloria Fuertes, are missing from the table of contents and are never once mentioned in the introduction. Readers may wish that Gabriel Celaya's words -«Y un poeta es por de pronto un hombre» (287)- had not been taken so literally.

Kay Pritchett

University of Arkansas

The 1986 Premio de Literatura Miguel de Cervantes acknowledged the intellectual and literary achievements of critic, writer, and historian Gonzalo Torrente Ballester, but this deserved recognition came late in his career. Although he has produced a steady stream of books since 1938, his popular success dates from the 1973 publication of his novel Saga/fuga de J. B.; analytical studies of his work still lag behind those of   —674→   other comparable writers. Because of this, the commemorative volume of Critical Studies on Gonzalo Torrente Ballester is an important addition to the corpus of critical work. The studies cover both creative and critical writing and include articles on individual works, wider-ranging thematic and technical studies, analyses of the writer's literary theory, and a lengthy interview.

A few studies, such as Robert Nugent's analysis of El viaje del joven Tobías, deal with Torrente's pre-1973 literature, much of which appears to differ radically from his better-known novels. However, there are constants to be found throughout his literary production, as Margarita Benítez shows in her study of parody and subversion, or as presented in Stephen Miller's analysis of Torrente's 1986 Apuntes literarios as a point of departure for scrutinizing his evolving theory of literature.

The majority of articles, however, are devoted to Torrente's later writings -known for their lucid aspects, self-reflective and metafictional techniques, the use of demythification and parody- and very sophisticated concept of literature, which place him squarely within the contemporary intellectual scene. David Herzberger and Genaro Pérez study the metafictional aspect of Fragmentos de apocalipsis and Saga/fuga, respectively; Santiago López Torres and Jaime Carbajo Romero decode the poetry in Saga/fuga.

Several excellent articles dwell on the relationship of reality, history and creative text -Janet Pérez on La rosa de los vientos and Lynne Overesch-Maister on the trilogy (Saga/fuga, Fragmentos..., La isla...). Amparo Pérez Gutiérrez tackles apocalyptic literature and its connection with lineal history in La isla...; Kathleen Glenn studies myth and metaphor in Quizá nos lleve el viento.

Torrente's interest in the nature and function of the literary process is explored further in Frieda Blackwell's «Literature Within Literature...» and in Ángel Loureiro's «La realidad grotesca y la imaginación en libertad...» Carmen Becerra investigates the use of parody in Yo no soy yo...; Leo Hickey studies the relationship of narrator with reader or with text in La princesa durmiente...

A unique benefit of studying living authors is the opportunity for writers to comment on their own work. Several studies make use of interviews with Torrente (Blackwell, Overesch-Maister); his comments add an invaluable personal dimension to the facts. Francisca and Stephen Miller provide a lengthy interview which focuses on the writer's pre-1960 literary and political interests.

A valuable introduction and a chronological bibliography of Torrente's critical and creative works through 1987 round out the collection. The informative contents of this volume offer excellent reading for specialists and for those interested in the contemporary Spanish literary scene.

Margaret E. W. Jones

University of Kentucky

Tipología de la narración: A propósito de Torrente Ballester constituye un ensayo profundo, riguroso y claro sobre una de las novelas más complejas en el actual panorama de la narrativa española. Basándose en los teóricos Martínez Bonati, Genette, Roland Barthes, Benveniste y los formalistas rusos, Lértora examina Fragmentos de Apocalipsis como una estructura lingüística «cuyo análisis objetivo no precisa del recurso a referencias extratextuales para comprender el funcionamiento del mundo desplegado por el lenguaje que la constituye» (184).

En el capítulo 1 se estudian «Las estructuras de la narración» distinguiendo la fuente desde la que se genera el discurso que funda el mundo representado y los distintos niveles desde los cuales se despliegan las distintas voces. A partir de la diégesis (primer relato) y la metadiégesis (relato segundo integrado en el primero) se analiza el nivel narrativo conocido como mise en abyme, o existencia de un relato en el interior de otro. En los planos del relato se considera el estatuto de la entidad imaginaria del narrador que funda el mundo narrado mediante un discurso «cuya facultad esencial es la de ser capaz de crear un mundo desplegado ante nuestros ojos, diferente por lo tanto del hablar del personaje que no lo vemos como mundo» (37). Respecto a la tipología de la narración se discuten los distintos niveles que con relación a la historia presenta el narrador según sea homodiegético, en cuanto participa como personaje del mundo ficticio, y heterodiegético cuando narra acontecimientos en los que figura como personaje. La multiplicidad de voces narrativas que asumen la condición de discurso de un lenguaje imaginario no extratextual confiere a Fragmentos de Apocalipsis, según Lértora, una estructuración de mise en abyme, así como una organización segunda o estructura polifónica.

El capítulo 2, («Modos de presentación del mundo ficticio»), trata de la manera en que se presenta el cosmos ficticio, o relación del narrador con lo narrado, de acuerdo con la distancia y perspectiva desde las que se sitúa el narrador con el mundo representado. En Fragmentos, el narrador pone el acento en la construcción lingüística de un discurso narrativo. Por esto, la novela se plantea como un hacerse a medida que se proyecta el discurso del narrador y el presunto autor ficticio. Importa la enunciación narrativa, es decir, el discurso del narrador homodiegético y la instancia receptora. En el discurso del narrador heterodiegético, la distancia entre el narrador y el mundo narrado alcanza su punto máximo, y el sujeto de la enunciación está claramente diferenciado del enunciado. También se analizan otras modalidades que presentan el procedimiento discursivo tales como los modos citacional, autotextual e intertextual. La perspectiva -modo de presentación de la ficción que concierne cómo el mundo narrado es percibido por el narrador y el lector- proviene de diversas fuentes sin que exista, como lo prueba Juan Carlos Lértora en   —675→   cuanto Fragmentos, por parte del narrador y/o lector una visión uniforme que abarque todos los aspectos del mundo narrado.

La temporalidad del relato (capítulo 3) es un aspecto esencial que se relaciona con los planos de la enunciación (discurso) y el enunciado (historia narrada) y ambos planos manifiestan preferencia por el uso de determinados tiempos verbales. Lértora discute cómo se organiza la temporalidad en la ficción dentro de unas categorías temporales que pertenecen sólo al plano imaginario de Fragmentos. También se analizan la variedad de relaciones temporales teniendo en cuenta los cuatro tipos fundamentales propuestos por Genette: ulterior, anticipado, simultáneo e intercalado (146). Además se precisan el orden y la relación que mantienen las perspectivas temporales del discurso y la historia narrada, la disposición temporal en que se localizan los acontecimientos narrados y los procedimientos que alteran la linealidad del plano del acontecer. La complejidad y la disposición proteica que en el plano temporal presenta Fragmentos obliga al crítico a considerar igualmente otros aspectos y relaciones temporales que afectan al tiempo del discurso, tiempo de la historia, planos temporales del discurso narrativo, etc.

Con gran rigor, claridad expositiva y un valioso aparato crítico, Lértora fundamenta los principios teóricos analizados en Tipología de la narración: A propósito de Torrente Ballester para demostrar la forma en que los recursos de Fragmentos de Apocalipsis hacen posible la narración de una historia de índole imaginaria y autónoma sin correspondencia con la realidad concreta.

José Ortega

Universidad de Granada

This monograph discusses aspects of the theme of fear in five of the novels of Miguel Delibes: a chapter each is devoted to La sombra del ciprés es alargada, La hoja roja, Cinco horas con Mario, Parábola del náufrago, and El príncipe destronado. Interspersing brief allusions to other novels by Delibes published before 1975, the study provides an examination of fear that Rodríguez subdivides by its objects: fear of death, fear of desamor or lack of human solidarity, and fear of modern progress. The goal is to point out everything that inspires fear in these novels and how such fear functions thematically. The book begins with the statement that because feelings of fear characterize the man Delibes, fear is an essential underpinning of his fiction. However, what fascinates in this analysis is how el miedo takes so many forms, and how much weight would seem to lie on this single emotion.

This line of argument structures the book: Delibes «es un individuo hipersensible que ya en su niñez se muestra fascinado y obsesionado con el fenómeno de la muerte», whose first novel was «su primer intento de combatir su obsesión con la muerte, la cual es en realidad miedo al dolor, la arbitrariedad, la violencia, la injusticia, y el desamor inherentes a la vida humana» (133; emphasis added). Just as it is submerged in the works between La sombra del ciprés es alargada and La hoja roja, Delibes's obsession with death never again is dominant thematically in his novels, according to Rodríguez, and operates only as a secondary or even minor theme in the three other novels analyzed in this short volume. After La hoja roja fear of death disappears as a preoccupation to give way to el desamor, and this lack of human solidarity also takes many forms in the author's novels: a preoccupation with violence, cruelty, indifference, loneliness, selfishness, and competition. Delibes's view of life as a dog-eat-dog struggle for survival makes him fear for the weak and marginal in society, and this fear led Delibes to search for the origins of a social system where the strong exploit the weak. Rodríguez concludes that the novelist found the source of human insolidarity in the march of human progress, which is characterized by competition, consumerism, homogenization of tastes and customs, lack of communication, specialization, and the growing power of the State and large corporations.

Such a delineation of the development of a thematic complex includes many if not all of the basic elements of Delibes's primary fictional concerns, but some readers may take issue with the use of the word fear to describe it all. A clear and stable definition of terms or a grounding in some philosophical or psychological theory, rather than the easy assumption that everyone knows what fear is, would help this analysis to persuade that Delibes's attitude toward death, human cruelty, and the destructiveness of modern progress is indeed fear, and not anger, despair, fascination, nostalgia, frustration, or something else.

The most serious question to be raised about this study is its incompleteness. Too many novels, both pre-1975 and post-1975, are not discussed even though a case can be made that fear, as loosely defined here, has a significant thematic role in them. The bibliographical material consulted stops effectively at 1980 with the exception of Gonzalo Sobejano's introduction to the 1983 reedition of La mortaja, and Rodriguez's own unpublished interviews with Delibes in 1983 and 1985. Had this 1986 dissertation been even slightly reworked before publication it might logically have incorporated insights from Javier Sánchez Pérez's 1985 study of El hombre amenazado in Delibes's fiction, or Pilar de la Puente's 1986 section on the effects of Delibes's humor, in Castilla en Miguel Delibes, not to mention other critical works of the past ten years that pertain to this book's focus. As it is, this gracefully-phrased book misses making a significant new contribution to the scholarship on Miguel Delibes.

Constance A. Sullivan

University of Minnesota

Es un hecho indudable que el nombre de Ángel González se sitúa entre los más importantes e indispensables en la nómina de los llamados poetas del 50 dentro de la lírica española contemporánea. Debido a ello su bibliografía ha aumentado considerablemente en estos últimos años: volúmenes colectivos (resultados de homenajes y coloquios) y numerosísimos artículos centrados en aspectos o parcelas de su obra. Faltaba, sin embargo, un estudio de conjunto -exegético y valorativo- de la misma: algo así como un companion book o prontuario que nos sirviera de acceso a ella de un modo inteligente y ceñido a la vez. Y Andrew P. Debicki ha venido, con este libro, a llenar cumplidamente tal ausencia.

En su «Introducción», el crítico nos enfrenta ya a las actitudes y claves temáticas de González (social o crítica, irónica y satírica, temporalista y elegíaca, amorosa y erótica, y últimamente metapoética) así como a lo más distintivo de su expresividad: la reelaboración enriquecedora del lenguaje cotidiano y la multiplicidad creciente de enfoques, perspectivas de elocución y niveles significativos de que ha sabido dotar a su personalísimo estilo. A partir de esta síntesis, Debicki examina la poesía de Ángel González con mayor cercanía a lo largo de tres amplios capítulos, los cuales siguen el devenir cronológico -etapas, libros, recopilaciones- del autor de Palabra sobre palabra.

En todos esos capítulos el método expositivo ha sido el de ofrecer, primero, una exposición resumida de los aspectos innovadores de cada entrega considerada (a más de un mínimo de datos biográficos y circunstanciales pertinentes); y proceder después a un análisis individualizado de las piezas sobresalientes en dicha entrega. Aquí, en estos análisis o comentarios, Debicki alcanza sus más provechosos momentos críticos. Sostenidos sobre una mesurada fundamentación teórica, nunca farragosa, esas radiografías interiores de los poemas nos hacen ver, desde dentro, los variadísimos mecanismos de creación del poeta. Y son esos mecanismos quienes, bajo la máscara engañosa de una cotidianidad léxica, y por los caminos de una afilada ironía y la más alta conciencia del lenguaje, alzan a la de Ángel González al nivel de una poesía de gran riqueza y complejidad. Así vamos descubriendo -y la descripción siguiente es sólo parcial- las sorprendentes voces que González concede a sus muy diversos (siempre concretos, no siempre «fiables») hablantes poéticos, esto especialmente en la primera gran zona de su obra (Capítulo 1: «El poetizar de una realidad tensiva»); y el énfasis puesto después -segunda etapa- en los recursos y procedimientos técnicos de construcción y lenguaje; aunque siempre llenando los esquemas, resultantes de tal actitud, con sus experiencias propias (Capítulo 2: «Desconfianza y predominio de la palabra»). Y por fin, en el Capítulo 3 («Un éxito de la postmodernidad: colaboración de poema y lector») asistimos al desarrollo y confirmación de algo que, en verdad, había guiado a Debicki desde los comienzos de su exploración crítica por esta poesía: su propósito de demostrarnos cómo, y sobre todo en su tramo último, Ángel González acierta en asumir y cumplir, de modo eficaz y pleno, varias de las premisas fundamentales de la estética posmoderna en poesía. En su libro más reciente -Prosemas o menos (1983)- pareciera que el autor quiere dejar a los lectores la tarea de continuar y completar las tensiones que el texto ha dejado sólo sutilmente planteadas, y de llenar los sugerentes «vacíos» que de modo deliberado han quedado inscritos en el poema. Estaríamos así ante una escritura «posmoderna», en espera de lectores igualmente «posmodernos».

Siguiendo normas editoriales de esta colección, el volumen incluye además una «Antología» suficiente del poeta y una «bibliografía» (con la relación de sus títulos originales y de los estudios críticos más importantes aparecidos hasta la fecha). A esa bibliografía debe añadirse desde hoy, y también como indispensable, la original y novedosa lectura que de la poesía de Ángel González realiza Andrew P. Debicki en este libro.

José Olivio Jiménez

CUNY Hunter College & Graduate Center

In the Feminine Mode is a Festschrift in honor of Marina Romero, a superlative teacher and poet, who inspired Professors Valis and Maier when they were undergraduates at Douglas College. Consonant with the conventions of this scholarly genre, the book begins with a personal reminiscence about Romero, written primarily by Carol Maier; it concludes with an analysis of Romero's poetry by Noël Valis. Thirteen essays by other contributors comprise the remainder of the book. The essays, which are loosely related, are organized into three titled sections. The editors conceive of «the feminine mode» as «an inclusive term of plurality, difference, and even contradiction». The essays in this collection demonstrate that the same assertion applies to feminist criticism.

The first segment is called «Writing the Self». These essays address obscure texts or extract new meaning from those that are well-known, with varying degrees of success. Amy Katz Kaminsky analyzes a little-known romance by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, Marci Sternheim discusses Sara de Ibáñez's «battle to create», Teresa Vilarós-Soler writes about Clementina Arderiu, and Janet Pérez elucidates imagery used by Josefina Aldecoa, Carmen Martín Gaite, and Maria Antonia Oliver. In the final chapter in this section, Debra A. Castillo discusses the problem of women's relation to history in a novel by Carmen Gómez Ojea.

Part Two, entitled «The Text of Subversion», is the   —677→   most uniformly excellent. In it, Susan Kirkpatrick demonstrates how Gertrudis Gómez de Avellaneda gives new Romantic spiritual attributes to female characters in Sab. Maryellen Bieder discusses the techniques through which Emilia Pardo Bazán subverts gender conventions in Los Pazos de Ulloa, and Elizabeth J. Ordóñez illuminates two sources of the «double-voiced discourse» evident in Pardo Bazán's Memorias. Lastly, Linda Gould Levine examines androgyny in Isabel Allende's La casa de los espíritus.

In the book's final section, entitled «The Critical Space», contributors deal in some way with the subject of literary criticism. These essays are most enlightening when they adopt a scholarly stance, and less so when they impose protracted descriptions of personal reactions. Elsa Krieger Gambarini reviews male critics' evolving responses to the work of Teresa de la Parra, Janet Gold describes poems by Yolanda Oreamuno, Elena Poniatowska and Luisa Valenzuela; and Bernice L. Hausman documents the relationship between Victoria Ocampo and Virginia Woolf. Harriet S. Turner compares poems by Gabriela Mistral, Gloria Riestra, Rosario Castellanos, and Gloria Fuertes with a nineteenth-century American girl's sampler. In the closing chapter, Noël Valis focuses on the sense of self described and enacted by Carolina Coronado, Casta Esteban, and Marina Romero.

The great range of these essays -spanning continents, genres, levels of artistic merit, and also levels of scholarly attainment- makes it difficult to generalize about the book as a whole. Unlike anthologies such as Janet Pérez's Novelistas femeninas de la postguerra española or Roberto Manteiga, Carolyn Galerstein and Kathleen McNerney's Feminine Concerns in Contemporary Spanish Fiction by Women, there is no circumscribed focus of inquiry. Some of the writers analyzed here are securely ensconced in the canon, while others are scarcely known even to specialists. Yet because of this diversity, a sequential reading of these chapters sheds great light on the complex issue of gender for Hispanic women writers. Without exception, these writers must come to terms with their gender on every front: in their own minds, in their art, and in their responses to societal expectations in various parts of the Hispanic world. These findings will interest a broad audience, and among the book's readers will be scholars who do not know Spanish. The volume is thoroughly accessible to English speakers, although some may be confused by certain omissions, such as the failure to specify published English translations or to mention that several authors write in Catalan. Translations into English range from workmanlike to superb.

In the Feminine Mode is a pioneering contribution to the genre of the Festschrift in Hispanic letters. This public tribute has traditionally been offered to male mentors by their successful scholarly progeny, who also usually are male. Here, scholars who are women pay homage to female professors who inspired them not only to study Hispanic literature, but to pursue a new field of inquiry. At the same time, they offer important insights into women writers of Spain and Latin America, whose previous characterizations as «feminine» have not been associated with such deep respect.

Joan Lipman Brown

University of Delaware

Afirma Claudio Rodríguez Fer que este trabajo obedece a un doble propósito social y personal. Al referirse al primero dice: «O propósito social ten carácter didáctico na medida en que se pretende sentar algunhas bases analíticas para o mellor estudio da poesía galega, e cultural no sentido de que se trata de incorporar aportacións das máis diversas correntes e tendencias universais á nosa cultura, coa fin de contribuír a actualizala neste terreo e, mesmo, a poñela en situación de clarificar ou de innovar algunha cuestión de tipo xeral...» (9).

Sobre el segundo aspecto, el personal, afirma: «O propósito persoal ten a súa exclusiva motivación no amor á poesía galega» (9). Este libro es el producto de diez años de estudio, evidente a lo largo de la lectura por la diversidad y modernidad de los métodos de crítica literaria expuestos, así como por su aplicación a la obra de determinados escritores gallegos. Rodríguez Fer reconoce la necesidad de una «metodología diversa» que permita distintos acercamientos críticos a cada obra. Dentro de esta visión amplia, Rodríguez Fer especifica la conveniencia de utilizar ediciones revisadas o ediciones críticas, con el fin de trabajar con un texto confiable.

Poesía Galega se divide en dos partes: «Análise Intratextual» y «Análise Extratextual». La primera parte comprende los siguientes capítulos: Análise de fondo ou contido. A temática cultural na poesía de Carballo Calero; Anális e da forma ou da expresión. O nivel gráfico. Elementos de grafoestilística galega; O nivel fónico. Fonoestilística da poesía de Novoneyra; O nivel gramatical. A recorrencia na poesía de López-Casanova; O nivel léxico-semántico. Da metáfora múltiple a Manuel Antonio; O nivel pragmático. Himnos de loita patriótica e revolucionaria de Cabanillas; Análise da estructura. O poema «Penélope» de Díaz Castro. La segunda parte, dedicada al análisis extratextual, comprende: Análise histórico-literaria. A historia da literatura no texto. Cunqueiro y Ferrín na tradición europea; O texto na historia da literatura. Ferrín e Arcadio no cambio de rumbo de 1976; Análise histórico-social. A historia social no texto. O poema «Cunetas» de Luis Pimentel; O texto na historia social. Celso Emilio Ferreiro e a plusvalía; Análise ideolóxico-filosófica. A concepción da lírica na obra de Ramón Piñeiro; Análise biográfico-psicolóxica. Otero Pedrayo á luz de «O quinqué de petrólio»; A interpretación personal. A literatura como coñecemento; O comentario de textos. Comentario   —678→   dun poema de Rosalía de Castro.

Como se desprende de esta ennumeración temática, se estudian y se aplican aquí acercamientos críticos de plena actualidad. Se hace evidente que el autor profundizó en ellos, sopesó su aplicación y seleccionó la obra adecuada para ejemplificar mejor la eficacia del método. Esta perspicacia selectiva quizá sea lo más importante del libro, sobre todo si se piensa en su aportación al desarrollo de la crítica gallega y, su difusión en otros ámbitos nacionales e internacionales. La labor de Claudio Rodríguez Fer hubiera sido muy aceptable en su aspecto de divulgación, si se hubiera quedado en la dimensión puramente teórica de los nuevos acercamientos críticos. No obstante, las referencias y su aplicación a textos gallegos constituye su mejor aportación.

Estamos ante un excelente libro de crítica literaria, especializado en un área que requería ya un estudio de esta naturaleza; un trabajo abarcador que incluye las muestras más representativas de la poesía gallega contemporánea. La sólida formación académica del autor se pone de manifiesto en las inteligentes síntesis que realiza de orientaciones críticas diversas y hasta opuestas en algunos casos, incluyendo ideas tan distantes como las enunciadas por los formalistas rusos, Roman Jakobson, Umberto Eco y las formuladas por Georg Lukács, Lucien Goldmann, Mikhail Bakhtin, etc.

Los juicios expuestos por Claudio Rodríguez Fer en Poesía Galega están avalados por el notable dominio que posee de las actuales orientaciones de la crítica literaria. La erudición y la estima por lo propio han hecho posible un texto de obligada lectura para el especialista, y de particular interés para el lector que sigue de cerca la evolución de las letras gallegas.

Matilde Albert Robatto

Universidad de Puerto Rico

Hace algunos años, en A Reader's Guide to Contemporary Theory, Raman Selden se quejaba de cierto «chauvinismo cultural» de los británicos que los hacía resistentes a las nuevas teorías procedentes del continente. Ahora Barry Jordan ofrece una crítica, por momentos conciliatoria, casi siempre acerba, del hispanismo británico, el cual considera sumido en inveterados principios y prácticas (como las del «close reading»), difíciles de sostenerse ante el desafío de las recientes teorías literarias que han conmovido los cimientos de la crítica ortodoxa. Una preocupación, pues, literaria, cultural y académica, da unidad al presente volumen, compuesto de cinco ensayos -tres en inglés, dos en español- que ya habían sido publicados en diferentes revistas.

En el primero de estos ensayos, Jordan comenta el notorio caso de Colin MacCabe, el joven lector de inglés que fue negado «tenure» y despedido de Cambridge por su enfoque heterodoxo de la crítica.

Seguidamente, lleva a cabo una esquemática pero precisa descripción del estructuralismo y la semiótica, de la teoría de la recepción y del desconstruccionismo, para señalar sus efectos sobre los conceptos tradicionales de autor, texto y lector. Además, desde una perspectiva marxista, la práctica de la interpretación se halla limitada, para Jordan, por las «realidades políticas» de la institución académica, convirtiéndose en una lucha de poder entre profesores y estudiantes: «the power relation between those given the right to speak and thus to teach, and those taught» (29).

Los dos siguientes ensayos están relacionados por su problemática, y sus argumentos se encaminan a la crítica del texto como entidad autónoma. El primero trata sobre las teorías de dos críticos marxistas británicos, Terry Eagleton y Tony Bennett; el segundo toca de manera más directa el debate sobre el valor y la utilidad de los estudios literarios en nuestro mundo pluralista y cambiante. La respuesta a la actual crisis parece ser, para Jordan, los programas de Cultural Studies como el actualmente implantado en la Universidad de Birmingham, donde él enseña. Jordan propugna la «apertura del canon literario hacia un surtido más amplio de objetos culturales» (55), la orientación hacia los estudios interdisciplinarios y la consideración de las obras dentro de sus contextos históricos y socio-culturales. Sólo desde un enfoque excesivamente conservador o extremadamente formalista se podría objetar a estas prácticas renovadas de los Cultural Studies. Pero hallamos preocupante cierta tendencia a ignorar distinciones de valor, a confundir y mezclar lo literario con lo no-literario, las obras maestras (este concepto mismo queda entre dicho) con los productos de la «mass media» y del arte «pop». Es así que la «falacia formalista» pudiera convertirse en una falacia consumista, el aspecto estético de las obras quedaría subordinado a una especie de sociología de la literatura.

En sus dos últimos ensayos, Jordan realiza un análisis más específicamente pedagógico de los procedimientos del hispanismo británico. Muchas de sus críticas son atinadas y serían incluso aplicables a algunos departamentos de lenguas en los E. U. A.; el dar privilegio a los estudios medievales y renacentistas a expensas de los intereses más modernos de los estudiantes de hoy; la desatención al estudio de la lengua en sus formas contemporáneas; la posición marginal de los cursos de «civilización»; la concentración insuficiente concedida a la teoría literaria. Aparte del reto que presentan las nuevas teorías, Jordan está consciente de presiones políticas (el «Thatcherismo») que afectan a la educación en Gran Bretaña, entre otras cosas por un «continuing shift in subject balance from Humanities to Sciences» (96). Su perspectiva es, pues, hasta cierto punto, defensiva: la urgencia de cambiar o sucumbir. Inquieta, no obstante, su insistencia en conceptos como «marketable», «practical», «valor de uso» y «utilidad» aplicados a estudios literarios, y sobre todo lo que parece una negación implícita de la literatura por sí misma, como una expresión de la condición humana paradójicamente   —679→   eterna y liberadora en su misma historicidad.

No hay duda que estamos ante un libro polémico, del cual disentimos en muchos aspectos. Su lectura, sin embargo, resultará de interés para todos los que se preocupen por el futuro de los estudios literarios y las humanidades.

Gemma Roberts

University of Miami

Onésimo Almeida continues, with this collection of essays, in his effort to establish what is different, unique, and in some cases, debatable (in the scholarly sense of the word) about Azorian literature. Indeed, the very denotation of the subject presents challenges and opportunities. As Almeida himself indicates in the introductory note, almost all of the essays collected in this volume have appeared somewhere before (15). However, this fact does not take away from the masterful argument that the author makes for a definition of Azorian-people, places, literature, culture.

Well versed in current literary theory, but also well aware of its absence from much of the literary dialogue of his culture, Almeida presents his readers with a McLuhanesque collage -one that informs as well as challenges the readers. Almeida begins by defining his audience- «Continentais, Madeirenses e Macaenses» (17-20). The definition and a warning to the reader to finish the book before venturing an opinion of it (20), lead, to four essays specifically about «O Caso Singular Açoriano», although only the first of the four essays has this specific title.

The next two essays (some thirty pages) provide a panoramic view of «Azorian Literature» through an analysis of its writers, movements, and socio-political reactions. Readers -as did this one- will find themselves as spectators in a point-counter-point match. The tone of the narrative is at times angry. At other times it is apologetic. In one of the essays, a heretofore unpublished interview conducted in 1987, Almeida concludes -in response to a question about the possible political implications of the definition of an Azorian literature- with the following words: «Contentar-me-ei com insistir no facto de a existência da literatura açoriana ser talvez, uma questão de semântica dependente, portanto, do sentido dos termos; mas as coisas existem ou não, independentemente dos usos que de las fazemos e dos nomes que lhes decidimos chamar» (135).

The last five essays, perhaps the most provocative of the collection, attempt to define a «cultural space» for this body of literature. It is here that Almeida presents the strongest arguments for his definition of «Açorianidade». A cultural space is only such if one sees it as different from something else. It is in the «something else» that one defines one's culture and its manifestations. Almeida establishes for Azorians a cultural space in terms of what it is not. For readers who are currently involved in a redefinition of culture through literary theory, Almeida's collection of essays is an example as well as a product of the contemporary dialogue. In the appendix, Almeida collects five pieces (letters, short notes, and a critical review of one of his own books written under a pseudonym).

To understand some of the value of this collection, one must remember its intended audience -«Continentais, Madeirenses, and Macaenses». In so doing, one realizes that it is a response in a never ending dialogue. Yet, scholars of all literatures expressed in the Portuguese language will find this volume stimulating.

The supplement by Viera et al., to Leo Pap's The Portuguese in the United States: A Bibliography (Staten Island, New York: Center for Migration Studies, 1976), compiles entries 801 to 2071 of materials on Portuguese-American studies published from 1973 to 1988. In addition, several addenda appear at the end of each section of the bibliography. The supplement not only fills in the gaps encountered by reviewers of Pap's original contribution of the first 800 entries, but also adds new information that concerns the topic, such as «return migration especially from European countries to Portugal [that] has become widespread since Pap published his bibliography» (3).

The editors are to be commended for the care with which they have researched the topic and presented the information in a usable fashion. Although not completely annotated, the bibliography has explanations of ambiguous titles, for example, entry number 1018, «Fishman, Joshua A. The Rise and Fall of the Ethnic Revival: Perspectives on Language and Ethnicity. Berlin: Mouton, 1985. [Contains references and statistical data on Portuguese in America] (23).

In addition to bibliographical information on the published sources, the editors of this volume have been careful to indicate the location of unpublished materials, for example, Emmanuel M. Vasconcellos's Brief Narrative of the Original Portuguese Church, is a manuscript found in the Illinois State Historical Library (34). Pages 99 to 126 provide an alphabetical index that includes authors, titles of newspapers and other periodicals, as well as state agencies that may provide additional information.

This bibliography is an indispensable tool for scholars who are interested in the Portuguese presence in the United States and Canada. Along with Leo Pap's original bibliography, it will save hours of preliminary bibliographical work on the part of researchers. This reviewer agrees fully with Eduardo Mayone Dias who concludes his preface with the following words: «Esperamos pois que tanto a bibliografia   —680→   original como o suplemento que agora se publica possam servir de trampolim para a expansão da pesquisa. As bases aí estão» (2).

Carmen Chaves Tesser

University of Georgia

This text fulfills several needs that long have existed for Hispanic American colonial literature scholars. In the first instance it presents a modern edition of a work that, although standard fare for instructional purposes, has often been difficult to obtain. In the second, the text presents an interesting, if not impressive, study of the often proposed dual authorship of Infortunios de Alonso Ramírez, along with statistical data to suggest the extent to which each author (Sigüenza and/or Ramírez) intervened in the work as first published in 1690.

Professor Irizarry's contribution consists of her «Introduction», which includes pertinent biographical information on each author, notes on the historical events germane to the study and, even, a chapter titled «Dos autores: dos personalidades», in which Professor Irizarry broaches such topics as «Humor e ironía», «Actitudes raciales» and «Modos de narrar». The «Introduction» also includes a discussion of the computer analysis of the text and of the statistical results upon which the dual authorship and each author's intervention are established. The editor's notes and explanations are followed by a complete and modernized version of Infortunios... a well prepared glossary of the same, and, finally, by a photographic facsimile of the original 1690 text.

This contribution is of particular note and value because it uses so-called high tech tools to evaluate and cast new light on an Hispanic American classic. In addition to offering statistical evidence that Ramírez definitely had a hand in the elaboration of the text, i. e. that Sigüenza is not the sole author, the study illustrates new paths of literary investigation which may well be of value to those scholars interested in close reading of texts, now by computers, to aid in the determination of matters such as authorship, to simplify and expand the possibilities of stylistic and lexical studies, and to carry out textual comparisons. In addition to the obvious, such as promoting a revision of Puerto Rican and Mexican literary histories or a new look at the stylistic propensities of the better known of the two writers, this study should be a model for those humanists eager to experience firsthand the ways in which computerized textual analyses can be of significant practical value in literary studies.

Whereas the study is merely descriptive of the steps taken (for example, no attempt is made to explain the significance of Chi Square in such evaluations), the several pages of charts and statistical data are easy to follow and will undoubtedly be of interest to students of colonial literature in general. Of special note is Professor Irizarry's decision to leave to the reader any conclusions concerning the extent to which each author intervened in the text. In this respect, the editor's purpose is merely to present the data; she lets the statistics speak for themselves.

Robert J. Morris

Texas Tech University

Floresta's book is a new edition of her Opúsculo Humanitário, which was first published in 1853 in Rio de Janeiro. Floresta's main thesis revolves around the idea that the treatment and education of women measures the degree of «civilization» of any given society. Her plea is directed to those who would, for the sake of progress in Brazil, heed her call for educational reform, especially for women. The Opúsculo begins with a historical overview of the treatment of women in society since Egyptian times. Self-taught, Floresta still relies heavily on biblical and classical allusion, a rhetorical style which makes for slow reading at first; however, style lightens considerably as she speaks of various issues facing Brazilian society.

In many ways her themes are typical of the nationalism of the Brazilian Romantics, in that she rejects Portugal and celebrates the character of the Brazilian Indian. Floresta blames Portuguese colonization for the introduction of slavery in Brazil and for the «Moorish» influence of keeping women in the home, surrounded by slaves. On the other hand, Floresta's Opúsculo differs from the typical literary portrayal of women by the Romantics in providing the reader with sociological information about the raising of young women, her own experience as school mistress and educator, as well as a lively discussion of problems faced by the poor women (white and Indian) in Brazilian society at large. As Peggy Sharpe-Valadares points out, as an abolitionist, a republican, an Indianist and a feminist, Horesta was a highly criticized and controversial figure in her day (xxviii).

Although Floresta is against slavery, the portrayal of the African race appears unfavorable at times; she claims that Indian servants are of better character than their African counterparts (151), and refers to the milk of slave wet-nurses as «leite impuro» (93). While these comments may prove problematic to modern readers, Floresta's intent to draw attention to the dehumanizing effects of slavery, not only on the slaves themselves, but also on the whole of society   —681→   may, in part, account for these remarks. On the other hand, her observations about the danger of a two-class society (rich and poor) in Brazil, the possibility of authoritarian rule in an under-educated society are, in fact, quite relevant today.

Sharpe-Valadares's introduction puts the work into historical context, while the footnotes help the reader with obscure references and offer translations of long quotations in French. Sharpe-Valadares also provides the positivist background of Floresta's doctrines, and points out how Auguste Comte's concept of female moral superiority influenced her idea that religion and moral values should remain the cornerstone of women's education (xxiv). In this sense Floresta retains a traditional view of female virtue. Yet as a woman, Floresta avoided the trap of biological determinism, because she did not believe that race or sex hindered intellectual ability. This edition of Nisia Floresta's work fills in the gap of the missing female voice of the nineteenth century, and will be of interest to feminists and to all those interested in remedying this absence in the intellectual history of Brazil.

Paul B. Dixon's study of Machado de Assis's Don Casmurro relies on the tension between the distinct discourses of realism and myth used in the novel. Dixon explores the underlying mythic themes, tropes and structures which furnish the work's non-ironic base. Dixon claims the use of the «implied author» is limited by the use of first-person narrative, and therefore irony emerges from the use of the «quest myth» in a modern urban context, wherein mythic and modern world views come into conflict. The study demonstrates how the narrator's mythic sensibility contrasts with the actual events of his life which provides the ultimate irony and ambiguity of the text.

The first part of the study supplies the theoretical basis for the analysis: the structuralist delineation of the «model of heroic narrative» (22) which is very convincingly applied to Dom Casmurro, although the discussion of tropes is somewhat more limited. By analyzing a narrative in the heroic mode, the study argues that Bento Santiago's modern enemy is time, a «dragón» to be overcome by love and procreation, both hopes shattered by the novel's outcome. The narrator's final weapon is the act of writing, a substitute for the heroic yearnings of youth; the phrase «retired dreams» used by Don Casmurro, captures the modern disillusionment and the desire for heroic forms of existence.

The chapter «Birth, Death and Rebirth» outlines the stages of the hero as applied to the chronology of Dom Casmurro's life in a metaphoric sense: first love (birth) moves to the seminary (death) and realized love (rebirth), then finally an ironic rebirth in the final transformation of Bento Santiago into Dom Casmurro. This chapter offers very strong evidence for the coherence of the ironic transformation of the heroic narrative, an argument also taken up in the discussion of Capitu and Dom Casmurro as ironic versions of Camões's Thetic and Adamastor (102-07). Capitu's «undertow eyes» are a microcosm of an inward journey into another rather than the outward quest for heroic achievement. Dixon's chapter «Matriarchy and Patriarchy» illuminates the mythic value systems that the main characters embody; Capitu's behavior can be logically explained as matriarchal: i. e., her loyalty to procreation, to friendship, and to the nonhierarchical structures of mother-child rather than husband-wife. Bento Santiago, as a lawyer, personifies the patriarchal insistence on fidelity, obedience, hierarchy and honor. According to the study, this impasse reached by the characters is that of conflicting world views, deliberately set in opposition to question the basis of our judgments and knowledge, and perhaps even to question the patriarchal suppositions of authority and authorship. Dixon takes the issue of paternity which lies at the center of the novel, and applies it to a metaliterary interpretation of the text and questions the traditional authority vested in the (patriarchal) hierarchy of author-reader to the (matriarchal) non-hierarchical text-reader.

Dixon's study sheds new light on the underlying myths which contribute to the novel's irony and its universality. Dixon deliberately avoids the discussion of Capitu's guilt or innocence which would close down the epistemological problem of the novel whose ultimate concern lies in the lack of grounding of our beliefs and the insufficiency of any real sense of knowledge. If Capitu represents the awareness of «absence», then Dixon's study shows how the novel relies on the ironic use of the language of presence to structure its radical message.

M. Elizabeth Ginway

University of Georgia

Seven major divisions classify Gabriela Mistral's posthumous publication, Poema de Chile, in Santiago Daydí-Tolson's El último viaje de Gabriela Mistral. The introduction presents an overview of the poem, discussing the poetic legacy of the Nobel Prize winning Chilean poet, the poetic form of seventy-seven romances, the motif of the journey, the characters of the epic, the poetic influences on the author, and biographical information contained in the poem. Chapter 1 provides an in-depth analysis of the narrative and poetic structure of Poema de Chile. Daydí-Tolson treats some of the structural flaws of the poem in this section, using other works of Mistral along with information about her work patterns to prove that instead of being flawed, the metric imperfections simply reflect the unfinished state of the poetry. Mistral, the author asserts, would write almost identical lines into the drafts of poems delaying the decision of which line to use.

Chapter 2 traces origin and inspiration and the plan for organizing the poem. The subject matter, according to Daydí-Tolson, reflects the interest of Mistral in her native Chile -geographical data, flora and fauna,   —682→   people and places, politics and history. By way of background, Chapter 3 reviews Mistral's uses of the anecdote of the journey along with some of her actual journeys which are juxtaposed to the imaginary journey presented in Poema de Chile. The author contends that despite the nostalgic tone of the poem, «Mistral no tenía un auténtico deseo de volver a Chile» (123), an assertion explored in Chapter 4 which discusses the relationship between the poet and her native land. The psychological dichotomy between the poet's decision to remain in exile and her preoccupation with and patriotic ties to the homeland are elucidated.

Chapter 5 provides a detailed analysis of Mistral's choice of companions for the imaginary journey through Chile. The symbols of Indian child and deer, according to the author, merge. The two symbols «tienen en común la inocencia original de la naturaleza virgen del continente y sufren por igual de la explotación y la violencia del europeo que los ha extinguido o los ha reducido a vivir en el temor del animal perseguido» (170). In the final chapter, the critic focuses on the narrator of the poem. One need not study biographical data beyond this poem, asserts Daydí-Tolson, concluding that the phantom demonstrates Mistral's desire for and belief in an immortal existence.

One possible defect of the book, that of repetition, seems unavoidable and is offset by the depth of the study. Mistral's unusual usage of such common words as «caminar» and «patria», for example, receives a thorough study in not only Poema de Chile, but in other works as well. The author relates Mistral's work habits to the content of the poem and illuminates the ideas contained therein. Symbols that appear in this poem that coincide with symbols constant in other works of Mistral are identified, analyzed and discussed in depth. Daydí-Tolson characterizes Poema de Chile as a definitive edition (though unfinished) of Gabriela Mistral's ideas and artistic techniques. For Mistral scholars the book provides a useful point of departure for understanding and analyzing this poem and earlier poems as well.

Kim L. Smith

Panhandle State University

This biography, a useful attempt to illuminate corners of the life of the Mexican poet, is perhaps only a beginning of an effort to unravel the enigma of her life, and death. Bonifaz accepts too uncritically the official version of her accident in Tel Aviv. A lingering suspicion of that version is hard to erase. Some day, perhaps, there will be an objective effort to discover what exactly happened in the Mexican Embassy on August 7, 1974.

No doubt, as current critical theory tells us, all biographies and autobiographies are fiction, or, at best, partial truths. The author selects certain facts at will, embellishes them, and suppresses others. No historical life, in all its complexity, can be squeezed within the covers of a book. I therefore commend Bonifaz for his choice of a title: this is not so much a «life», as a «personal glimpse». As reader, I have acquired a sharpened realization of the depth of suffering and solitude that Rosario experienced from her childhood on. Bonifaz was a close childhood friend of Rosario's, and what he writes, we may assume, has the quality of testimony. In Comitán she was isolated by the social status of her family, their wealth which set them apart from the Indians and the poor ladinos; yet this same isolation deepened her insight into the culture of the Chiapanec Mayas, by way of the servants and her nanas, and produced later a strong sense of commitment to alleviate their poverty and suffering. Her younger brother Benjamin's death devastated her parents, and this loss made her more precious in their eyes. The land reforms under Cárdenas did away with much of their possessions, and silence, according to Bonifaz, consumed the Castellanos household: «No one had a thing to share with anyone else» (22). Later both parents died, within weeks of each other, leaving Rosario both alone and free. Some years later came marriage to Ricardo Guerra, the birth of Gabriel, and the divorce papers, which she received in Tel Aviv. Orphaned and divorced, she said of herself. And she compared herself to an oyster, enclosed in its shell, no more or less. And yet we have that other Rosario that her friends gave witness to: the sparkling wit and splendid conversationalist, the concern for others, and endless love for life in all its forms.

The book conveys the sense of absolute dedication to her art, with fine insights into the poet's manner of writing; Rosario was not one to work and re-work poems: «What I want to say flows with ease, and all at once. I can't leave something for awhile and then come back to it. Even my corrections must be made while I am writing, as if the verse were a melted metal that would be impossible to change once it has cooled» (39). It would be useful if the author had given us the source for this quotation; we are only told that it was spoken during a conversation with her friend Alejandro Avilés. One curious discovery is how often the word lámpara is related to death in her poems, which Bonifaz takes as a premonition.

The English is not always felicitous; we are told, for example that «her literary output attains the heights of pure aesthetic» (14). Perhaps the translator was trying to be too literal, hewing to the at times florid prose of the biographer. This reader is grateful for the moving photographs of Rosario, from her childhood to her departure for Israel (why are there none of her parents?), and for the extensive bibliography. In short, this work has its strengths and weaknesses; as witness to many facets of her life, it should be made available to all students of Castellanos. Rosario's poems and   —683→   narrative take on new depth with the passage of time; as Bonifaz lucidly observes in the final pages, «Each of her words is like an arrow aimed at the future».

Julian Palley

University of California, Irvine

The Idea of Race in Latin America consists of three chapters and an introduction, all written by historians: «Racial Ideas and Social Policy in Brazil, 1870-1940», by Thomas E. Skidmore; «Race in Argentina and Cuba, 1880-1930: Theory, Policies, and Popular Reaction», by Aline Heig; and «Racism, Revolution, and Indigenismo: Mexico, 1910-1940», by Alan Knight. The edition offers a good and helpful overview of the thinking on race that prevailed in Latin America at the turn of the century. The period chosen for study, 1870-1940, is justified by Richard Graham in the «Introduction», on the grounds that it was «the one in which the idea of race had its fullest development and received the imprimatur of science» (2). The studies therefore concentrate on the period ten years after Darwin's publication of The Origin of the Species (1850), particularly on the time during which Spencer applied these ideas to the social realm, in fact being the first to use the term «survival of the fittest» to describe social dynamics. The three studies attempt to cover a representative sample of different Latin American countries and how creole elites imported and adapted Eurocentric racist ideas in order to justify their privileged status.

Thus, as Skidmore points out, in the case of Brazil, the elite had to modify ideas of racial superiority -particularly ideas of racial «purity»- given that Brazil was such a mixed society. They therefore adapted Eurocentric racist ideas and postulated the «gradual whitening» of Brazil thinking in terms of «varying shades of white» instead of «purity». Important in Skidmore's study is his critique of the Brazilian myth of a successful and happy miscegenation -that prevails to this day- but which his analysis of immigration policies and census records undermines: the darker the poorer.

Aline Heig's analysis of the reception, transformation, and application of these ideas in two very differently constituted countries, Cuba and Argentina, points out how little the elite's ideology in each country had to do with the social and racial reality of those countries. In the case of Argentina, Sarmiento, Bunge, and Ingenieros continued to espouse Anglo Saxon superiority and Indian and blacks inferiority at a time when Indians and black constituted a rapidly disappearing group. Furthermore, 43% of all immigrants to Argentina were Italian and 34% Spanish and the highly valued Anglo-Saxons were a minority. Thus, Heig concludes that Sarmiento's, Bunge's, and Ingeniero's theorizing «appeared closer to their European models than to the changing reality of Argentina» (43). Heig's comparison between Argentina and Cuba further brings out the fact that, regardless of racial composition, the elites of both countries reached surprisingly similar conclusions on race and therefore had more in common with one another and their European models than with their own country's reality. In the case of Cuba, Heig focuses on two writers: Francisco Figueras, a politician, and Fernando Ortiz, the first Cuban ethnologist. Disappointingly however, she focuses on the latter's studies in criminology and their similarity with Italian models, while overlooking his very important theorization of the processes of transculturation at work in Cuban culture since the Conquest.

Alan Knight's study of Mexico during and after the Revolution would serve as a critique of the two previous chapters since he greatly complicates the notion of race to include the all-important question of the construction of race by culture. He shows how, in many cases, the perception of racial characteristics has more to do with the perception of ethnicity, religion, language, culture, and class rather than with race itself. These widely and wildly different conceptions of «race» create great problems particularly for record-keeping purposes such as the census where, in the case of Chiapas, for example, the state was officially recorded to be 38% Indian in the 1930s, «yet a critic proposed 80% as the correct figure» (74). Knight also points out how the very construction of the «Indian» is possible only with the Conquest, and thus like indigenismo, or the more radical indianismo of the 70s, it is the West that defines the rest -and never escapes being racist even when pro-Indian positions are adopted.

Silvia Spitta

Dartmouth College

The present work, culmination of nearly a decade of research, consists of preface, abbreviations and symbols, introduction, a corpus divided into Spanish American and Brazilian Portuguese terms, references (i. e., sources consulted) and, lastly, a place index. As Stephens states early on, it is a broad-based work, geared specifically to speakers of English; and whose entries incorporate historical, literary, political, sociological, anthropological, linguistic and colloquial information. More precisely, he goes on, such entries tend to refer to phenotype; ethnic, national, regional or geographic origin; social class; religion; and combinations thereof. By so doing, the dictionary is designed to offer a «relatively exhaustive view» (6) brought to fruition through the use of both native informants as well as of previously published academic sources, the most significant of which are briefly discussed in the introduction.

The author concludes his opening words with an   —684→   indispensable explanation on how to take full advantage of each of the thousand plus entries to follow. He begins by alluding to the straightforward manner of alphabetization, in which individual entries appear in bold face, to be followed, in partial or complete sequence, by: a literal or dictionary definition; the main racial or ethnic definition(s); related or subsidiary meanings, as well as mention of country and/or region of origin, source of the entry and historical period of use. Further commentary, set in brackets, may conclude the entry, offering some or all of the following information: etymological observations; the part of speech or type of phrase in which the entry generally appears; derivatives; variants; synonyms; antonyms; and cross-references to entries of similar usage or meaning in both Spanish and Portuguese. Of particular value are the parallels drawn with English-language terminology.

Regarding the corpus of the dictionary, there is the pervasive, legitimate and, for the investigator, complex realization that, in the naming process, social factors impact heavily on racial ones, thus making for unavoidable ambiguities in classification. Indeed, one result, found in both of the work's main sections, is what appears to be an over-zealous inclusion of regionalisms, particularly around peasant life, many of which lack appreciable ethnic or racial connotations. Much lesser in number, if equally questionable, are, for example, references appended to one or another group of the type «alemán de mierda» (21) or «quase negro» (351). In addition, entries which seem to lack a significant, if not the significant definition, sometimes arise. Witness, for instance, the (primarily socioeconomic) term «bóia-fria» (268), defined as either a northeasterner who travels south, eating cold food during the journey, or simply as any northeasterner. In point of fact, it is used more to denote underprivileged, short-term farm laborers, and not necessarily from the Northeast, either. Then, too, there are a few distinct labels, namely «derogatory», «insulting» and «pejorative», whose would-be nuances hardly promote clarity.

Such limited shortcomings, however, are more than outweighed by the advantages of having under one cover a well-organized and thorough reference tool on Latin America's racial and ethnic terminology, up to and including relevant border parlance. This is especially evident in the detail with which Stephens catalogs and cross-references spelling variations, as well as in his more extensive entries, dealing mostly with race. His work, thus, fills a vacuum, promising to facilitate future research for readers in many of the convergent fields associated with Latin American studies.

Malcolm Silverman

San Diego State University

En su Literary Bondage: Slavery in Cuban Narrative, William Luis emprende un análisis exhaustivo que lo lleva a indagar en la característica de constante que dicho tema adquiere a lo largo de unos doscientos años de historia literaria isleña. Para realizar su tarea, el crítico agrupa la narrativa antiesclavista en cuatro categorías afirmadas en momentos específicos: aquella primera que se produce durante la esclavitud, o sea, desde que tal asunto alborea en las letras nacionales a principios del siglo diecinueve hasta la emancipación, en 1886; esa segunda designada post-esclavista que abarca desde la liberación hasta el advenimiento de la República, en 1902; una tercera que surge durante la época republicana, es decir, desde 1902 hasta 1959; otra última y ambigua que aparece a partir del triunfo de la Revolución Cubana y que se extiende hasta la actualidad. Lo esencial del libro estriba en la minuciosa lectura crítica de diversas obras claves vinculadas a cada período, lectura que se ilumina gracias a toda una gama de textos secundarios.

En una introducción denominada «Fiction and Fact: The Antislavery Narrative and Blacks as Counter-Discourse in Cuban History», Luis orienta su análisis en base a la noción de contradiscurso expuesta por Foucault, es decir, a ese discurso que afronta uno dominante con el objeto de socavarlo y subvertirlo. Para el autor, la narrativa antiesclavista encarna semejante postura de la misma manera en que la actuación histórica del negro cubano ha agredido contra las estructuras socioeconómicas represivas impuestas por el blanco para mantenerlo subyugado.

El primer capítulo de la obra, «The Antislavery Narrative: Writing and the European Aesthetic», se desprende del papel que Domingo Del Monte y otros abolicionistas cubanos como José Antonio Saco y José de la Luz y Caballero tuvieron en promover la narrativa antiesclavista, la cual devino así componente de un espíritu de cubanidad que operaba en contra del discurso colonial español. En novelas como Francisco y El negro Francisco, se da forma a la imagen del africano martirizado por medio de ardides textuales que exigen la simpatía del lector burgués. Por otra parte, ambas novelas le sirven a Luis para exponer una estrategia crítica evidente a lo largo de Literary Bondage: el hacer hincapié en las nociones de intertextualidad y reescritura. Con meritoria y perspicaz entereza, traza la huella de textos en textos y analiza meticulosamente no sólo la manera en que Francisco se afinca en la Autobiografía de un esclavo y El negro Francisco se emparenta con la nove la homónima que lo precediera, sino que -en capítulos posteriores- demuestra cómo Sofía constituye una re-producción de Cecilia Valdés, cómo Pedro Blanco, el negrero se hace eco del libro de Brantz Mayer, Adventures of an African Slave, cómo Los guerrilleros negros dialoga con la Biografía de un cimarrón y el libro de Zoila Danger Roll, Los cimarrones de El Frijol.

En «Textual Multiplications: Juan Francisco Manzano's Autobiografía and Cirilo Villaverde's Cecilia Valdés», Luis analiza las múltiples versiones   —685→   de la primera obra -que él designa texto Ur de la literatura antiesclavista- y las tres de la segunda para mostrar toda una serie de alteraciones textuales cuya finalidad es intensificar un dinamismo a ellas ínsita. En el caso de la Autobiografía, el crítico sostiene que la escritura original de Manzano ha desaparecido, ha sido paradójicamente esclavizada por quienes se han empeñado en rescatarla a través de los años. En cuanto a Cecilia Valdés, la determinación es otra: el autor afirma que tanto el cuento original como la primera versión de la novela no constituían en su fondo escritos verdaderamente antiesclavistas. Ese papel sólo lo cumple la obra definitiva que se terminó en 1879, constituyendo de tal forma el último aldabonazo literario contra el sistema represivo en cuestión.

Los capítulos llamados «Time in Fiction» e «Historical Fictions» se ocupan de los siguientes textos antiesclavistas pertenecientes a la etapa republicana: Romualdo, uno de tantos y Aponte, de Francisco Calcagno; Sofía y La familia Unzúazu, de Martín Morúa Delgado; Pedro Blanco, el negrero, de Lino Novás Calvo; El reino de este mundo, de Alejo Carpentier. En el primero de dichos apartados, Luis ahonda en las obras de Calcagno y Morúa Delgado para poner en evidencia cómo sus actitudes contradiscursivas, al arrancar de un tiempo diferente, constituyen una suerte de relectura y reescritura de ese pasado que procuran censurar. Estudia a fondo también la polémica trayectoria ideológica de Morúa Delgado, la cual lo llevó a proponer la nefasta Ley Morúa, enmienda a la Constitución cubana cuya intención fue impedir la formación de partidos políticos integrados por individuos de una raza determinada. En «Historical Fictions», por otro lado, Luis elucida en forma convincente la fundamentación histórica de las susodichas novelas escritas por Novás Calvo y Carpentier. Al hacerlo se detiene frente a tales asuntos como la noción de vida novelada según ésta se presenta en Pedro Blanco, el negrero; la doble intencionalidad política que, según él, ese texto refleja; la ambigüedad de los postulados carpenterianos en lo maravilloso y lo real maravilloso con respecto a su manifestación en El reino de este mundo.

«The Politics of Memory: Miguel Barnet's The Autobiography of a Runaway Slave and César Leante's Los guerrilleros negros» se plantea, en esencial, la re-visión de la esclavitud a la luz de la ficción y del fenómeno revolucionario cubano, una re-visión que pretende adecuar la significación de los textos a las estrategias del nuevo discurso dominante. Sin embargo -y con respecto a la Biografía de un cimarrón- como Luis quiere ver en la situación actual del negro isleño la pervivencia de un contradiscurso que estriba en su carencia de poder, advierte de manera un tanto peregrina el silenciamiento forzoso de su héroe por parte de Barnet, quien tal vez oculta de ese modo la postura perennemente rebelde de una voz marginada. Dicha posición se refleja de algún modo en el último capítulo del estudio, «Present and Future Antislavery Narratives: Reinaldo Arenas's Graveyard of the Angels», puesto que al profundizar en esa imaginativa reescritura de Cecilia Valdés, el crítico explica lo que ella comporta de enfrentamiento radical con el discurso dominante, entrañando por consiguiente un retorno a los orígenes del contradiscurso antiesclavista. La esclavitud se establece -observa Luis- como metáfora insistente de la opresión.

Este libro consiste en un estudio concienzudo, sagaz, ameno, de un tema importante. Tanto la dilatada bibliografía de que consta como el certero uso de diversas fuentes críticas, históricas y artísticas revelan una elaboración cuidadosa, certeramente premeditada. Por todo ello, Literary Bondage: Slavery in Cuban Narrative es una monografía de indispensable consulta para todo el que se interese en este asunto en particular y en la literatura cubana en general.

Jorge Febles

Western Michigan University

Julio Ortega desarrolla en esta obra un discurso crítico que plantea una revisión del proceso histórico de la cultura peruana a través de su literatura. Crítica de la identidad surge a la vez como complemento de otro libro de Ortega publicado en la misma editorial diez años antes, La cultura peruana. Experiencia y conciencia (1978). Entonces hablaba el ensayista, y asumía una experiencia iberoamericana que consideraba característica del Tercer Mundo frente a las culturas tradicionales hegemónicas; hoy habla el crítico literario, influido por las corrientes posmodernistas y preocupado por el concepto mismo de «cultura», de «identidad», donde incluso lo «peruano» aparece ahora como problemático: «Si vemos que la identidad es de clase, de etnia, de percepción y de inscripción en uno u otro discurso, sólo podemos concluir que la nuestra es una identidad conflictiva y jerarquizada» (216).

Ortega propone, en su aproximación a la obra literaria, que se considere la problematización de la escritura misma en el acto de su propia textualización el texto como parte de un todo contextual -y con ello inicia la revisión de lo que pasa por «tradición nacional» y por «nacionalismo». Así lo hace con excelente resultado en los capítulos 2 y 3 que dedica a la obra de Guamán Poma de Ayala. Pero los estudios que se incluyen en este libro son desiguales. Crítica de la identidad no posee una unidad estructural. Consta de dieciocho capítulos que corresponden a otros tantos estudios independientes, algunos de los cuales aparecieron originalmente «como prólogos, en libros colectivos o fueron ponencias en simposios académicos» (7). De ahí, que junto a breves semblanzas -Chocano, capítulo 6; Eguren, capítulo 7, Moro, capítulo 10; «La vanguardia», capítulo 11; Loayza, capítulo 13 -o extensos estudios panorámicos de corte tradicional- Literatura y cultura nacional en el Perú»,   —686→   capítulo 4; Juan de Arona, capítulo 5; García Calderón, capítulo 8 -se incluyan profundos análisis próximos al desarrollo teórico que singulariza la aportación de esta obra: «Vallejo: la poética de la subversión», capítulo 9; «Arguedas: comunicación y modelo plural», capítulo 12 y «Julio Ramón Ribeyro: la naturaleza del código», capítulo 16.

Estos tres últimos capítulos, cuyas primeras versiones datan de 1982, muestran el proceso de una aproximación crítica que ahora adquiere expresión madura en el marco teórico de este libro. En efecto, el primer capítulo de la obra, «La fundación crítica» (11-17), y el último, «Discurso, identidad y cultura» (207-21), se complementan en una reflexión teórica que apunta a una hermenéutica del signo y que el autor desarrolla luego en los capítulos 2, «Historia y ficción: un modelo del relato» (18-23) y 3, «Guamán Poma de Ayala y la producción del texto» (24-34). De ahí también el doble interés del libro. Crítica de la identidad estudia, como señala el subtítulo, la literatura peruana en su contexto; pero al nivel teórico supone igualmente una incitación, una propuesta, a la independencia crítica en la investigación de lo iberoamericano al destacar las limitaciones de las categorías importadas.

José Luis Gómez-Martínez

University of Georgia

Bibliographies of bibliographies perform an extremely useful function in the scholarly world and this one is a welcome addition to such works on the areas and countries of the Western Hemisphere. Its author is a librarian at the Ponce campus of the University of Puerto Rico and is the compiler of several other bibliographies that deal with Puerto Rico.

Her brief «Introduction» discusses succinctly the history and areas of bibliographical research in Puerto Rico. Pages 1-136 are a classified annotated bibliography of bibliographies that have dealt in any way with Puerto Rican topics. Fowlie-Flores writes that the annotations «clarify the subject matter of the work, the authority of the compiler, and the organization of the work. To some extent, they reflect the importance of the item or its complexity. Wherever possible, the number of references included in the bibliography is indicated» (x). Pages 137-67 provide Author, Title and Subject Indexes. Certain sections might interest the readers of Hispania more than others. They are: Bio-bibliographies, Folklore, Language and Linguistics, Literature and Puerto Ricans in the United States.

The coverage is remarkably thorough and comprehensive as it includes books, bibliographies that appear in journals or as part of ERIC, M. A. theses, and Ph. D. dissertations. The annotations are most useful and the volume is extremely up to date. It was published early in 1990 and includes material published as recently as 1987.

Though she mentions David Zubatsky, «Annotated bibliography of Latin American Author Bibliographies. Part II: Central America and the Caribbean», Chasqui: 6 (1977) 41-72, Fowlie-Flores does not include Zubatsky's Latin American Literary Authors: An Annotated Guide to Bibliographies. Metuchen: Scarecrow Press, 1986, ix, 332 pp., which is a revision and updating of his Chasqui series. My own Guide to Reference Works for the Study of the Spanish Language and Literature and Spanish American Literature, (New York, MLA, 1987) probably appeared too late that year for inclusion.

For its comprehensiveness and excellent annotations this bibliography should remain for a long time the standard work in its field and anyone interested in Puerto Rico and its culture will find themselves indebted to the perseverance and scholarship of Fay Fowlie-Flores.

Hensley C. Woodbridge

Southern Illinois University-Carbondale

One of the reasons Latin American modernism (in the European sense of the word) was so successful is that it corresponded to an economic heyday of continental culture. Not only were many prominent Latin American writers able to hobnob in New York, London, Paris, Berlin, and Rome with the cultural leaders of the day (and, in the process, become known from the recognition that the latter bestowed on them), but centers like Rio de Janeiro, Mexico City, Buenos Aires, Montevideo, Santiago, and Havana enjoyed a level of economic prosperity that made the nourishment of a Creole Bohemia and modernist set viable. Certainly, Spanish American vanguardismo and Brazilian modernismo are eloquent demonstrations of the close ties between economic conditions and the level of artistic production. Moreover, in the case of the so-called Third World, it concomitantly signals the opportunities for internationalism that, no matter how vital day-to-day cultural production may be, simply cannot exist in more stringent economic times, as witnessed by the marked decline in the «Latin American presence» as the economic situation worsens in the leading countries.

One is struck by the fact that, given the enormous productivity of Latin American modernism, a bibliography such as this one has not previously been compiled. But, then, poetry, outside of work on a handful of prominent figures like Paz, Neruda, Vallejo (and Borges by derivation from his prose), continues to be the understudied genre of Latin American literature, with even work on drama and the theater overshadowing it. While not attempting to take on the whole of Latin American poetry, Forster -Jackson   —687→   have provided an exceptionally fine guide to the crucial modernist period. The organization of their project is simple and straightforward: provide coverage of general works and then provide coverage for the individual countries in alphabetical order. Within each section there is a listing of Reference Works, followed by Sources from the Period (especially useful, since the economic prosperity allowed for a huge output of literary reviews, manifestoes, and early critical studies, in addition to the works themselves), Individual Works (i. e., the first edition critical production), Other Material (miscellaneous references, many of them in literary supplements), and then the hard core of the listing, Critical Studies. The latter is a single alphabetical listing by critic (as opposed to perhaps a more arguably chronological listing). Although the entries as a whole are accompanied by descriptive annotations, the latter are particularly useful for the critical studies, indicating scope, points of contention, conclusion, critical approaches, and relations to other critical studies. Although annotated bibliographies often only mean repeating in English as an annotation the descriptive content of the title, Forster-Jackson provide useful coverage. What is more, and again because of the proliferation of material during the period, some of the references are not easily available in any but the most extensive research collection, and in this scene the annotations play an important discriminating function. It should, however, be noted that it is the user who will be doing the discriminating, since the annotations do not in any event assess the cultural and intellectual importance of the references -i. e., this is not a «critical annotated bibliography».

The reader will have noted that I have insisted on using the terms «modernism» and «modernist», eschewing the compilers' own term «vanguardism». Historically, this term only makes sense in Spanish and only refers to the Spanish American poets. Brazilian literary history speaks of modernismo, never vanguardismo, and there is some discomfort in making Brazil toe the taxonomic line along with Spanish America, and then moreover in English. Perhaps using the English modernism or simply a chronological designation would have avoided the ever-touchy problem of how to interface Spanish American and Brazilian literature without implying that Brazil merely fits in between Argentina and Chile, with language (and, therefore, sociocultural) differences being of minor consequence. This sort of caviling aside, one is pleased to see Brazil represented, since Brazilian literature usually gets ignored by Latin Americanists. Since that country had one of the most spectacular modernist productions in all of the continent, the decision to incorporate Brazil in the listing is particularly important.

The bibliography, which enjoyed the support of the National Endowment for the Humanities and fine computer resources, is superbly prepared. Accuracy is exemplary. Vanguardism in Latin American Literature constitutes a fine bibliographic standard and will be a widely consulted reference work.

David William Foster

Arizona State University

This well-written volume of critical commentary on the work of Adolfo Bioy Casares takes its place on the narrow shelf of book-length studies devoted to the close friend of Jorge Luis Borges and the husband of Silvina Ocampo. The first chapter deals with Bioy Casares's interest in scientific writings, especially An Experiment with Time by J. W. Dunne and Francis Galton's Inquiries into Human Faculty. In the second chapter the critic explores his detective fiction, a genre he cultivated with Borges with remarkable success. Guirnalda con amores, a book often overlooked by critics, is the subject of chapter 3.

Bioy's interest in humor and dictionaries, an interest he likewise shared with Borges, is studied in chapter 4. Another collaborative volume, Crónicas de Bustos Domecq, is the focus of attention in chapter 5. The last two chapters are summaries of the themes and techniques found in the first five chapters. The sixth deals with the author's predilection for island settings in his early works and his later preference for settings either in the city of Buenos Aires or in the province surrounding the city. The last chapter is a close analysis of his 1985 novel, La aventura de un fotógrafo en La Plata, as a compendium of the writer's principal themes. The volume contains an extensive bibliography of primary works and critical studies as well as an onomastic index.

For many readers the reputation of Bioy Casares is based primarily on his two early books, La invención de Morel (1940) and Plan de evasión (1945). Camurati clearly recognizes the signal importance of these two works, but she successfully makes a case for renewed critical attention to his later novels and short stories. His use of humor, for example, is not evident in the first two works. The idea that Bioy Casares primarily uses island settings is another result of critical emphasis on his first two novels.

Bioy's most recent novel, La aventura de un fotógrafo en La Plata (1985), serves Camurati as a summary of the total work of the writer. It contains examples of his use of humor and dreams, the latter either a foretaste of life after death or a nightmarish vision of earthly existence. In the final pages of the novel the dedication of the photographer, the book's protagonist mentioned in the title, to artistic endeavors triumphs over his feelings of love and desire. Implicit in Camurati's conclusion is that Bioy Casares throughout his career has shown equal dedication to the task of producing fine literature.

There can be no doubt that Camurati is a well-informed critic of the prose fiction of Bioy Casares. Her study is carefully organized, carefully documented, and free from any technical errors; the ones that do occur are primarily in the first two chapters. A   —688→   more thorough concluding chapter would have improved the book's thesis, but it nevertheless is a significant and useful tool for the study of an important representative of contemporary Argentine fiction.

Harley D. Oberhelman

Texas Tech University

What I am not going to say is that this is an excellent study of Cortázar's works within the necessary restrictions of the Twayne series; what I do say is that it is an excellent study, without any qualifications. Peavler's book is a fine introduction to Cortázar for all readers, but it also contains a wealth of deep critical insights into Cortázar's world of fiction, as well as highly perceptive and often original analyses of his works.

Peavler devotes far more space to Cortázar's short stories than to his novels, which may indicate a point of view regarding the relative importance of these two genres in the Argentine writer. The organization of the book reflects an intelligent solution to the difficult problem of framing Cortázar's fiction, in particular the unbalance resulting from the overwhelming significance of one novel alone and the multifaceted nature of his short stories. The introductory chapter traces Cortázar's career as a writer and his condition as voluntary expatriate in Paris and political militant in Argentinian, Cuban and Nicaraguan affairs. The next four chapters, all dealing with Cortázar's short stories, offer a very good critique of many specific works. I think Peavler has chosen a felicitous classification; he arranges the stories in a kind of continuum that goes from those works containing a maximum of fantasy and unreality to those based on reality. The key to the classification is verisimilitude in terms of character depiction, ambience, and the narration of the events in the work.

The chapter on «The Fantastic» discusses in consecutive fashion the most representative stories of that grouping, including «Carta a una señorita en París», «Casa tomada», «Las armas secretas», «La noche boca arriba», «Apocalipsis de Solentiname», and «Anillo de Moebius». Whether Peavler's comments cover one page or are limited to fifteen lines, he manages to strike at the core of each narration as regards theme, meaning, or technical aspects. He succeeds in identifying and analyzing with great acumen the nature of the unreal experience that Cortázar invites the reader to share. Peavler handles well the ambiguities, uncertainties, and temporal-spatial displacements that give these stories their particular Cortazarian dimension and aesthetic appeal. When necessary, Peavler reviews the opinions of other critics concerning particular texts, and then either corroborates or refutes these interpretations.

In Peavler's scale of verisimilitude, «The Mysterious» occupies the next range and includes such stories as «Circe», «No se culpe a nadie», «Cuello de gatito negro», «Historia con migalas», and «Reunión con un círculo rojo». Peavler does not eschew a negative analysis when he feels that a story is below Cortázar's high standards, as in the case of «La barca o nueva visita a Venecia», which he calls «weak». In the next chapter, called «The Psychological», Peavler treats several themes common to many stories: isolation, death, childhood and adult traumas. In some cases, Peavler interprets the stories he discusses here as involving real events, whereas many previous critics have considered these same events as imaginary or hallucinatory. Among the stories that Peavler considers «psychological» in the sense that they patently show Cortázar's interest in human behavior are «Final del juego La señorita Cora», «La salud de los enfermos», and «El perseguidor».

The last of the chapters devoted to the short stories is «The Realistic», although Peavler readily recognizes that the line separating Cortázar's realistic stories from the fantastic, mysterious or psychological ones is frequently not clearly defined. In this realistic group are placed the stories on boxing («Torito», «Segundo Viaje», «La noche de Mantequilla» on the political scene («Reunión»), and on city violence («Recortes de prensa»), none of which in Peavler's view reaches the lofty artistic level found in the less realistic stories.

In Chapter 6, Peavler treats Cortázar's novels in chronological order, but points out interesting relationships and interrelationships among them that give cohesiveness to these apparently disparate longer works of fiction. Peavler presents a good analysis of El examen, but correctly dismisses it as unimportant artistically. Rayuela, 62: modelo para armar, and El libro de Manuel are analyzed very soundly, but I feel that Peavler should have given more of his critical attention to these novels than he has elected to do. In the final chapter, Peavler deals with Cortázar's remaining works, La vuelta al día en ochenta mundos, Último round, Historias de cronopios y de famas, and Un tal Lucas.

Peavler is to be congratulated for writing this very useful, informative, and critically sensitive book. I recommend it with much enthusiasm.

Myron I. Lichtblau

Syracuse University

Consisting of twenty-eight essays, this volume presents the proceedings of the fifth annual meeting of the Asociación de Colombianistas Norteamericanos, which was held in Cartagena in August 1988 and dedicated to «la literature costeña». The volume's seven sections are: «Los presidentes hablan» (opening and closing remarks by, respectively, ex-Colombian   —689→   Presidente Alfonso López Michelson and Belisario Betancourt); «En Homenaje a Álvaro Cepeda Samudio»; «La literatura costeña»; «La obra de Gabriel García Márquez»; «Sobre y con R. H. Moreno-Durán»; «Perspectivas históricas»: and «Polémica en torno a Orlando Fals Borda».

As one might expect, López Michelsen's and Betancourt's comments are political by nature, the former affirming the necessity of balancing social order with human rights in Colombia, and the latter emphasizing the dichotomy between his nation's social classes and the need for political dialogue. In the section dealing with Cepeda Samudio, Raymond Williams discusses several novelas costeñas prior to Cepeda's La casa grande (1962). These include Ingermina (1845), by Juan José Nieto (the first of the genre); La maldición (1859), by Manuel María Madiedo; José Felix Fuenmayor's Cosme (1927); and García Márquez's La hojarasca (1955). Among the remaining essays in this section are one by Gilberto Gómez Ocampo, who delineates the two plot threads of La casa grande (the 1928 massacre of strikers in Ciénaga and the fate of the protagonist-family); Robert Simms's comments based on Bakhtin's theory of «heteroglosia» and examples thereof in La casa grande; and Germán Vargas's interesting observations on Cepeda's life (he and Cepeda were close friends) and two collections of short stories.

Of the eight pieces under the heading «La literatura costeña», the following stand out: Michael Palencia-Roth's explanation -in reality more historic than literary- of the Spaniards' ley de los antropófagos and its application in order to justify the enslavement of Indians during the sixteenth century; James Alstrum's discussion of Luis Carlos López's «labor desacralizadora» (144) of Colombian verse; William Siemens's study of El patio de los vientos perdidos, by Roberto Burgos Cantor, in which the reconstruction of memory is seen as a means of creating order out of chaos in the form of the written text; and P. Marino Tronco's examination of Héctor Rojas Berazo's long, complex novel Celia se pudre (1986).

In the section dedicated to García Márquez, John Benson points out the real and magical elements in many of the Colombian laureate's works -including his journalism- but Benson errs when he refers to the unnamed protagonist of El coronel no tiene quien le escriba as «el quimérico coronel Aureliano Buendía» (229). El amor en los tiempos del cólera is the subject of Harley Oberhelman's essay, which traces parallels between the author's parents and his protagonists Fermina Daza and Florentino Ariza. Oberhelman also underscores the novel's historic setting (Cartagena) and central theme: «la lucha contra los estragos del tiempo» (249). R. H. Moreno-Durán's oeuvre is brought under scrutiny by three studies, two concentrating on his novel, Los felinos del canciller; the first of these, by J. E. Jaramillo, unveils historical realities embedded in the work, and the second, by the author himself, highlights its historical underpinnings and salient motifs.

For this reader the most interesting of the «Perspectivas históricas» is Francisco U. Zuluaga's investigation of «cimarronismo» in Colombia during the colonial period, including the means by which slaves managed to found their own free communities. But the liveliest exchange of ideas informs the section focusing on Colombian sociologist Orlando Fals Borda's four-volume work, Historia doble de la Costa. The first piece, by Raymond Souza, presents a balanced, coherent introduction to Fals' study, emphasizing both its factual and literary contents. However, the second «ponencia», by historian Charles Bergquist, takes Fals to task for allowing political ideology to subvert scientific method and for arbitrarily dividing his work into abstract (rational) and concrete (anecdotal) segments. While undoubtedly based on sound academic principles, Bergquist's lengthy critique may nevertheless strike some readers as pedantic, especially in light of Fals's forceful, point-by-point rebuttal. Historia doble de la Costa, Fals concludes, was not written as a formal history for «las élites ni para los académicos», but rather «para suministrar a las clases subordinadas... elementos de lucha ideológica que les permitan defenderse de las injusticias que padecen» (392).

De ficciones y realidades not only illuminates aspects of Colombia's literatura costeña, a subject relatively unknown (except for Garcia Márquez) to many U. S. scholars, but also demonstrates that the recently founded Association of North American Colombianists has succeeded in establishing a meaningful, ongoing dialogue between U. S. and Colombian scholars.

George R. McMurray

Colorado State University

Ricardo Feierstein (Argentina, 1941) has earned attention for a series of novels, each developing the concerns of its predecessors. His first work won sporadic notice, applying concepts from architecture (Feierstein's profession) to narrative. In the late 1970s, Feierstein became a much more interesting writer by centering on a set of issues. He examines unexpected outcomes of Israeli statehood, such as the undiminished vigor of Jewish life in the Diaspora and the inevitably imperfect correspondence between Jewish and Israeli cultural identity. Also explored are the effects on collective and individual self-image or shifting from vivid utopianism (kibbutz or 60s-70s left) to business as usual; the puzzle of Latin Americanness enters in.

Mestizo is the first Feierstein novel to follow his trilogy Sinfonía inocente. Entre la izquierda y la pared, El caramelo descompuesto, and Escala uno en cincuenta first appeared out of sequence, but were published together in 1984 (Editorial Pardés) with Andrés Avellaneda's preface ably designed to draw out their coherent progression and collective significance.   —690→   Mestizo continues to examine the trilogy's issues; the protagonist is again an ex-radical ex-kibbutznik suffering poet-fervor depression. Middle-aged discontent grows more acute; the humdrum professional career confronting the hero of Escala is one of unemployment, and the character's response to crisis has escalated from unhappiness and anger to disorientation and memory loss.

While these factors start Mestizo on a cheerless note, a story of recovery quickly reveals itself. The background -newly recivilianized Argentina- suggests renewal, and Mestizo pays tribute to human understanding as friends and family help David search for memory and self. Even the police, who need David to recall a murder, wait patiently for him to heal himself by his own methods. These include taking oral histories from immigrant Jewish Argentines (quite absorbing material), recreating in conversation the days of heady activism and violent repression, and even such painless therapies as sharing the rapture of a great soccer triumph with a teenage son. David's amnesia is the symptom of an uneasy relation with the Jewish heritage and Argentine past, recent political history, and other troubling legacies. As the title hints, healing comes through acceptance of the mixed and unspecifiable nature of one's cultural and social being. Embedded in the novel are many reminders of the instability of identity, from the physical disparities among Jewish populations to the nonexistence of unquestionably «Argentine» names.

It is fair to say that readers have been more drawn to Feierstein for thematic than formal innovations. The latter are most effective when they are least obtrusive, and Feierstein is here more willing to let readers discover for themselves how his work is organized rather than explicitly mark the structural apparatus, as he did throughout the self-conscious Sinfonía. A new restraint also characterizes the use of dialogue. Sinfonía includes lengthy exchanges on unresolvable questions; some pages read like transcribed panel discussions. This is not to suggest that Feierstein has foresworn experiments with form (one episode in Mestizo is narrated as a screenplay, another as a comic strip) or weighty debate (the hero once sits between a pro-Palestinian Arab and a Jew voicing anxiety over Israeli and Jewish survival). But here he tactfully lets readers decide what to focus on.

Mestizo's afterword by Avellaneda skillfully summarizes where the novel stands in the author's oeuvre. Avellaneda justly presents Mestizo as an example of fiction with a documentary component, and sees its unmarked structure as artlessness suited to testimonial literature, with its field-notes effect. Mestizo appears in Mild's series Imaginaria, a thoughtful list of creative works elaborating Jewish thought and concerns.

Naomi Lindstrom

University of Texas at Austin

Ocho Mundos is a text intended for use by beginning or early intermediate learners of Spanish. This new edition of Ocho Mundos differs from previous editions in that the primary focus of the text has shifted from the development of reading skills to the acquisition of vocabulary and the development of vocabulary skills. In this edition of Ocho Mundos, the readings are intended to be used primarily as a means of reinforcing vocabulary acquisition and secondarily as a means of acquiring and practicing reading skills.

The text is divided into eight chapters, each of which focuses on a different theme of cultural or social interest. Among the themes covered in the text are: the family, student life, holidays, refugees, life in the future, mysterious occurrences, travel, and communication. In addition to a specific thematic focus, each chapter also focuses on one of several verb tenses usually introduced during the first year of Spanish instruction. The tenses studied in order of presentation include: present, preterit, imperfect, future, conditional, perfect tenses, formal commands and subjunctive.

Each chapter contains a vocabulary list which presents words and expressions related to the overall theme of the chapter, three reading selections also related to the overall theme of the chapter, and a variety of vocabulary and grammar exercises. There are also communicative activities which allow learners an opportunity to express themselves in some manner or to interact with other learners in pairs or small groups. Finally, all reading selections in each chapter are accompanied by post-reading activities designed to test learners' comprehension of the passage and most are also accompanied by pre-reading activities designed to activate learners' previous knowledge of the topic.

With respect to the reading selections, the first is a pedagogical text, in most cases written by the author. The other two are adaptations of articles that appeared in Spanish language periodicals. Each reading selection in a particular chapter is intended to highlight both the vocabulary and the verb tense which correspond to that chapter. By correlating reading selections with the introduction of particular verb tenses. Wegmann intends for learners «to master reading techniques without being distracted by verb tenses that have not yet been introduced» (xi).

The reading selections deal with a variety of interesting topics which should appeal to a wide range of learners. However, they seem somewhat contrived due to the fact that they have been manipulated to conform to the thematic and grammatical focus of the different chapters. The authentic texts included in each chapter lose any semblance of authenticity due   —691→   to heavy glossing and simplification. By simplifying and glossing the reading selections while at the same time strictly controlling the vocabulary and grammar they contain, the author does not challenge the learners to go beyond what they already know. This contradicts the empirically supported view that learners can indeed comprehend vocabulary and grammatical structures to which they have not been exposed.

Regarding the vocabulary and grammar exercises included in the text, the majority are mechanical in nature. Learners are asked to fill in the blanks with words or verb conjugations, match words with their equivalent in the other language, and complete cloze passages. One exception to these types of exercises are the pair and group activities included in each chapter. These activities, which generally take the form of interviews or group discussions, provide good opportunities for interaction between learners.

Similarly, while most of the exercises and activities associated with the readings are traditional and mechanical (e. g., open-ended comprehension questions in Spanish), some are more communicative in nature and encourage learners to think about what they are going to read or have read. For example, the «Anticipación» activities which precede many of the reading selections encourage the learners to access what they already know about the topic of a particular reading selection before reading that selection. These types of pre-reading activities have been shown to facilitate comprehension. The «Opiniones» and «Composición» activities encourage the learners to think about what they have read while giving them an opportunity to express themselves.

In conclusion, Ocho Mundos may prove to be useful in a first-year Spanish course; however there are several caveats to consider before adopting it. First, the vocabulary and grammar presented in Ocho Mundos are too limited for it to serve as the basic text in a first-year Spanish course; however, Ocho Mundos could be used to complement and reinforce the vocabulary and grammar presented in a standard basic text. Secondly, with some exceptions, the activities and exercises included in Ocho Mundos are traditional and mechanical. Therefore, instructors must devise more interesting and less traditional activities to be used instead of or at least in conjunction with the activities and exercises found in Ocho Mundos.

Finally, the reading selections strictly limit and control learners' experience with reading in Spanish. Consequently, instructors using Ocho Mundos should also expose their learners to truly authentic texts in Spanish in order to broaden the learners' experience with reading in Spanish and challenge them to go beyond what they already know. For these reasons, Ocho Mundos may prove to be useful in a first-year Spanish course, but only as a supplement to other materials and not as the basic text nor as the only source of activities or reading materials.

Jane E. Berne

University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign

Readers of Hispania were recently treated to a thorough assessment and bibliography of studies dealing with Spanish historical linguistics (see Thomas J. Walsh, «Spanish Historical Linguistics: Advances in the 1980s». Hispania 73 [1990], 177-200). Absent from the works listed under the rubric «General Works/Introductions/Manuals» is Antonio Alatorre's revised and expanded version of a text originally published in 1979. According to the author, it was written at the invitation of Beatrice Trueblood, «experta en el arte de 'producir' libros de lujo» (104), as a contribution to the millenary celebration of the Spanish language. Several hundred copies were evidently offered as a Christmas gift to the clients of a particular banking institution. Thus, it should come as no surprise that Alatorre's introductory «manual» is directed at a lay audience. As the author himself states, «Escribo para la gente. El lector que ha estado en mi imaginación es el 'lector general', el no especializado» (8). Although he draws on the works of several recognized experts in diachronic linguistics (including Ramón Menéndez Pidal, William J. Entwistle, Jaime Oliver Asín, Robert K. Spaulding, Juan Corominas, and above all, Rafael Lapesa), Alatorre has written a history of the Spanish language which is, in his own words, «la menos académica... la menos técnica... la menos profesional» (8). Hence, the lack of a bibliography and the usual critical apparatus.

In the prologue (7-10), the author explains the title of his work: «En 1975 nuestra lengua no tenía 1,000 años de edad, sino 1,000 y pico, un pico expresado por la unidad de la cifra '1,001'» (9). The text itself consists of eleven chapters designated and arranged as follows: 1. La Familia Indoeuropea; 2. Lenguas Ibéricas Prerromanas; 3. La Lengua de los Romanos (La Hispania romana, Latín hablado y latín escrito, El latín vulgar, Lengua culta, lengua vulgar y lengua semiculta); 4. La España Visigótica; 5. La España Arabe (Muladíes, mozárabes, mudéjares, Los arabismos del español, La lengua de los mozárabes); 6. El Nacimiento del Castellano (Los reinos cristianos del norte, El reino de Castilla, Advertencias sobre pronunciación, la 'cuna' castellana, Las 'glosas' de San Millán y de Silos, El camino francés); 7. La consolidación del castellano (El mester de juglaría, El mester de clerecía, La obra de Alfonso el Sabio, La literatura de los siglos XIV y XV, La lengua en los siglos XIII, XIV y XV); 8. El Apogeo del Castellano, primera parte (El marco político, la literatura, El teatro, La poesía, La novela, La prosa varia); 9. El Apogeo del Castellano, segunda parte (Atención al idioma, Moros y moriscos, Judíos y sefardíes, El Nuevo Mundo, Humanismo y antihumanismo, España y Europa); 10. El Apogeo del Castellano, tercera parte (Confianza en la lengua vulgar, El lenguaje puro y propio, Cambios en la pronunciación, Cambios en el vocabulario, Cambios gramaticales); 11. El Español Moderno (La Academia y la literatura, La lengua   —692→   hoy). As the above index shows, the author has managed to cover the salient topics pertaining to the subject. These are presented, moreover, in a straightforward and at times delightfully humorous manner. Many readers will no doubt appreciate the author's ability to transform what is potentially a very dry and technical mass of material into a highly-readable and entertaining narrative.

It is somewhat difficult, of course, for a specialist in the area of Spanish philology to predict the reaction of a neophyte audience to Alatorre's presentation. The chapters on literary development seem extremely uneven and sketchy. One finds, for example, only isolated references to the novels of Pérez Galdós, while a figure as prominent as Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz does not even appear in the Index. One also wonders to what extent a non-specialist reader will be able to comprehend, much less appreciate, the synthesized explanations of sound change (such as that afforded the development of the Old Spanish sibilant system in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries of the phonological differences between Castilian, Galician-Portuguese, Mozarabic, Leonese and Aragonese). While the author had promised to avoid using the technical vocabulary of the specialist (i. e. yod, palatalization, voicing, etc.), he nevertheless makes fairly extensive use throughout his study of phonetic symbols that surely will confuse some readers.

It is clear that Alatorre writes with expertise and affection about the language he remembers having been introduced to in written form at the age of four. The general reader who is curious enough to follow him in his journey throughout the centuries will no doubt find much along the way to stimulate the palate.

John S. Geary

University of Colorado at Boulder

7,800 Latin American legal abbreviations, meant to serve the needs of librarians and other readers of legal materials, comprise this work.

The entries, relating to the Spanish-speaking world and Brazil, were taken from previous works of this nature, but the compilers, both law librarians, also contributed additional terms by gleaning the treatise reviews of the various U. S. libraries with Latin American legal collections. They subsumed the legal abbreviations if the documents already contained a list; otherwise, they perused the materials in search of such abbreviations. To be even more complete the compilers solicited contributions from colleagues in the field.

The result is the present dictionary wherein each of the entries has the following annotation: (1) the acronym as it appeared in the original work, (2) the meaning of the phrase in Spanish or in Portuguese (unfortunately written without accent marks), (3) the country or countries of origin of the term and finally, (4) the English translation.

Although Torres and Ávalos have done a commendable job of compiling what is perhaps the first monographic reference work of this nature in English, some additional steps would have enhanced the dictionary's usefulness. The previous listings of legal abbreviations, brief though they may be, should have been noted either in the introduction or in a bibliography. Likewise, a cross section of the types of materials consulted for legal abbreviations as well as the U. S. library collections involved deserve mention.

Since so few bilingual reference books are extant on the fields of Spanish and Portuguese laws, a very brief bibliography of nine or ten titles would indicate not only the scope of the field but more importantly other valuable resources for the user: Louis A. Robb's Dictionary of Legal Terms: Spanish-English and English-Spanish, Marilyn R. Frankenthaler's Spanish-English Legal Terminology or Lawrence Deems Egbert's Law Dictionary: English-Español-Français-Deutch. Eugene P. Sheehy's Guide to Reference Books (1986) lists six additional tools.

Since the legal system of the Iberian world derives from sources different from those of the English-speaking world, it may be possible that the English translation is only an approximation due to the absence of a more precise term in English. Useful would be a glossary of deceptive cognates and other words difficult to convey to the English monolingual: amparo, asesorar, contestar, declarar, and demandar.

Latin American Legal Abbreviations fills a need in legal reference; however, the disparateness of Roman and Anglo Saxon legal systems requires more scholarly accouterments for the user. This plus more attention to source of materials would have considerably enhanced the present work.

Richard D. Woods

Trinity University

This volume, dedicated to the memory of Joseph H. Silverman (1924-1989), states that its principal objective is to offer a number of points of view on teaching Spanish Golden Age drama on both the undergraduate and graduate levels. By editorial de sign, the first essays are more applicable to undergraduate courses, while the rest are geared more for graduate teaching.

In brief prefatory remarks, Hesse outlines some chronological stages in the development of approaches to the teaching of Golden Age plays, leading up to the great variety of modern approaches manifested in the eight essays which comprise this collection. In the   —693→   early twentieth century, some instructors taught these plays purely as an exercise in translation, while others took more interest in the biography of the dramatist, the historical background of the play's action, its date of composition, use of verse forms, etc. With the advent of New Criticism, scholars came to scrutinize with much greater care the texts themselves. Hesse cites the work of A. A. Parker in 1957, and the reactions published in 1972 by James A. Parr as significant contributions to the development of a more modern and relevant approach to criticism which would come to examine the form, structure, imagery, irony, language, and human values found in a play. Many of these new perspectives are exemplified in the work of the eight colleagues who are at the same time both noted scholars and experienced teachers of Golden Age drama.

Anne M. Pasero's essay, «Teaching the Comedia. A Psychological Approach», probes the motives, actions, and reactions of several characters in two of Calderón's mythological plays, La estatua de Prometeo and La fiera, el rayo y la piedra. Her approach, which gives special attention to interrelationships between male and female, although derived basically from Freud and Jung, also draws upon the ideas of Lévi-Strauss.

Donald T. Dietz, in «An Alternative Approach to the Teaching of the Comedia», by using a highly subjective set of labels, indicts what he categorizes as the traditional approach (one which treats literature as a science), and contrasts to it his alternative methodology, which he calls the humanistic approach. In applying this approach to the teaching of Fuenteovejuna, Dietz avowedly shifts emphasis from Lope's play to the affective reaction which the play produces in his students. Only after weeks of discussing the basic human concerns elicited by the reading of the play does Dietz engage in traditional study of its historical background and artistic qualities. In «The Comedia as Playscript», Matthew D. Stroud shows how Stanislavski's structuralist approach, and several re-readings of El médico de su honra can enable his students to read Calderón from the perspective of director or actors.

Catherine Larson's essay, «Speech Act Theory and Linguistic Approaches to Teaching the Comedia», illustrates an attempt to balance the theoretical stance of speech act theory with a standard New Criticism close reading of the text while adding a measured dose of traditional criticism for study of the play at hand and of the comedia in general. In «Poetic Discourse and the Performance Text: Toward a Semiotics of the Comedia», Edward H. Friedman examines the implications of the semiotic model for comedia scholarship and its application to three plays, El caballero de Olmedo, La Numancia, and La vida es sueño.

Sharon Ghertman Dahlgren, in «The Semiotics of Text and Performance: Teaching El gran teatro del mundo», expresses her belief that semiotics helps us to understand the relationship between visual and auditory codes, between performance and text, and leads to an appreciation of Calderón's art. Susan L. Fischer, in «Reader-Response Criticism and the Comedia: Creation of Meaning in Calderón's La cisma de Inglaterra», outlines an approach which rejects the text's autonomy in favor of its dependence on the reader's participation in the creation of its meaning.

In «Deconstructing the Comedia», Denise M. DiPuccio attempts to rectify an unfortunate misconception according to which the apparently nihilistic premise of the discipline has been overemphasized. In deconstructing El pintor de su deshonra, DiPuccio shows how deconstruction can contribute two useful aids to literary criticism: it encourages the critic to look for multiplicity of meaning, and it prevents reducing the text to a set of maxims that conveniently suit the critic's, the reader's, or the author's preconceived notions on life and literature.

A thirty-two page Select Bibliography on the Comedia, compiled by Everett W. Hesse and Vern G. Williamsen, completes the volume.

Any overall evaluation of this monograph would have to recognize the scholarly value of the essays therein published. Collectively, however, and particularly in light of the plays which they analyze, they do not represent a balanced overview of Spanish Golden Age theater. Seven Calderón titles are studied; two by Lope (Fuenteovejuna twice), and one by Cervantes. No other Golden Age dramatist is represented. As individual essays, they are good, although the orientation of most is scholarly rather than pedagogical. There is no doubt that this volume will be valuable to all devotees of Spanish Golden Age theater, even though the avowed pedagogical thrust of the title seems somewhat misleading.

James A. Castañeda

Rice University

Written in easy-to-understand language, this addition to Playor's «Cómo dominar...» series of basic student texts delivers a clear, straightforward account of the evolution of literary themes and styles in Spanish America and Brazil from pre-Colombian times to the present. The twelve chapters adhere to an unvarying format. Each opens with a discussion of a literary period, its major authors, and their best-known writings, followed by an anthology of brief excerpts from selected works, questions on the chapters's content, and a self-test composed of multiple choice items. A basic bibliography containing twenty-three items, an onomastic index, and an answer key to the self-tests complete the volume.

This is another in the long line of literary histories-Torres Rioseco, Anderson Imbert, Leal, Gómez-Gil, Franco, et al. that attempt the near impossible: to bring a semblance of order to the chaotic body of writing produced by some twenty countries over a period of five centuries. Like his predecessors, Shimose   —694→   can only claim partial success. While this manual does not improve on the coverage and critical insight of Anderson Imbert, whom he frequently quotes, it is, without question, the most up-to-date work of its kind currently available. In fact, the text even comments on literary events of 1989, such as the death of Nicolás Guillén and the publication of El general en su laberinto.

Shimose, a Bolivian poet, has written a highly readable narrative, but the flow of his prose is plagued by lengthy catalogs which, regrettably, appear all too often. In some cases he provides plot summaries or a few remarks about content or significance but in others he merely lists authors and enumerates principal works. Sketchy treatment is given not only to minor literary figures but also to the contemporary period as a whole. Main entries for García Márquez, Fuentes, Vargas Llosa, Cardenal, Puig, and Allende for example, each comprise only three lines or less. By way of contrast, the older literature receives considerably more space (e. g. from one to two pages each on sor Juana, Andrés Bello, and Rómulo Gallegos). The discussion of colonial letters is marred by the egregious omission of Brazilian poet Gregório de Matos. Armando Valladares and Luisa Valenzuela are likewise absent from the chapters on contemporary writers. This erratic coverage can convey a false impression of the relative worth of a particular work or author in comparison with another and may prove confusing to the unwary.

Shimose's ambitious attempt to produce a literary history/anthology yields mixed results. His historical exposition, more descriptive than critical, fails to elude the usual hazards of this type of writing inevitable errors, inconsistent coverage, and infelicitous classifications. In addition, the overly abbreviated anthology selections actually hinder comprehension by not allowing readers to get a feel for the works presented. To his credit, Shimose disguises his nationalistic pride, offering a fair and equitable assessment of authors regardless of their origin. His inclusion of many obscure writers (especially Bolivians) not found in the standard reference sources and his listing of pen names are two of the volume's major virtues. These features, combined with the currency factor, make this a useful reference source for student and scholar alike. However, as with all works of this nature, it should be consulted with a certain amount of caution.

Melvin S. Arrington, Jr.

University of Mississippi

Taking his cue from a statement made in 1968 by Harri Meier that the complex field of Spanish expressions of futurity has yet to be studied. Gerhard Bauhr has undertaken the challenge for peninsular Spanish. He analyzes the two primary methods of expressing the future, cites percentages from his corpus, and then suggests possible factors that determine the use of one form over the other.

His corpus is drawn from fifty theatrical works written between 1959 and 1973 by such authors as Antonio Buero Vallejo, Carlos Llopis, Jorge Establier Llopis, Miguel Mihura and Alfonso Sastre, but his preliminary discussion of previous work includes four studies of American Spanish as well as three of peninsular Spanish. The use of ir a + infinitive (futuro analítico), while widespread in Spain, is generally conceded to be even more popular in American Spanish. Furthermore, these studies demonstrate that the ir a + infinitive construction is more frequent as one descends the socio-economic scale, so that in Los hijos de Sánchez by American sociologist Óscar Lewis, it occurs in an astonishing 89.5% of the instances requiring the future; and when the more literary futuro sintético is used, it occurs mostly in pat variations of ya verás or ahora verás.

After citing previous work in the field, Bauhr addresses the concept of verbal temporality. His model is based on the work of Andrés Bello (1841) with modern contributions by William E. Bull (1960) and Guillermo Rojo (1974). Disagreeing with Bull, Bauhr follows Rojo in identifying the difference between canté and cantaba as temporal rather than aspectual; but he challenges Rojo's assumption that ir a + infinitive indicates posteriority to the origin of the action, maintaining that its function is to convey posteriority to the situation simultaneous with the origin. Bauhr's example sentences involve such verbs as nevar, clarear and desmayar, which communicate the natural consequence of a process that is already present at the moment of utterance. It follows, then, that the future in -ré is used in cases where the posterior event has no connection with the situation simultaneous with the origin.

Bauhr next examines the future constructions in the light of aspect and concludes that they are both aspectually neutral. Proceeding to focus on modality, which he defines as la actitud adoptada por el hablante respecto al contenido de la comunicación, Bauhr offers a second model of analysis based on the modal categories of «possible» and «necessary», and subdivided into epistemic, deontic and functional. When the two forms of future expression are entirely modal, they differentiate clearly: the future in -ré communicating probability and possibility (epistemic modality) and ir a + infinitive communicating the deontic modality of «not proper», the epistemic «not possible» and «not certain», and the functional «necessary». In cases referring to a future event, the future in -ré is invoked to express the speaker's decision to impose his will on his interlocutor, while ir a + infinitive is used to express a decision free of outside pressure.

The final section of the book analyzes the distribution and use of the two future constructions in various syntactic environments. With adverbs of time, for   —695→   example, Bauhr finds that the future in -ré is used more often with adverbs like mañana and luego which represent a kind of rupture between the situation simultaneous with the origin and the posterior event. Ir a + infinitive is used more frequently with «origin-based» adverbs such as ahora and hoy.

As a scholarly work, Bauhr's effort is exemplary. The text is admirably free of errors, there is a table of abbreviations, a series of tables of distribution figures, and an excellent index. There is also a five-page summary and a five-paragraph abstract, both in English. Each selection in the corpus is given with enough context for readers to grasp its essential meaning, and errors that occur within the cited material are designated by sic. Although teachers of Spanish and generalists can be enlightened by the differing grammatical environments that elicit one or the other of the future constructions and may enjoy scanning the corpus, the technical arguments that Bauhr elaborates are basically there for the delectation of linguistics specialists.

Jack Shreve

Allegany Community College

This book, volume 4 of the Benjamin series titled «Creole Language Library», details the language characteristics of the so-called Negros Congos of Panama's Caribbean coast. These Negros Congos are members of ritualistic societies which celebrate during the pre-lenten Carnival season in historically-syncretic, African-and-Hispanic ceremonies. Their celebrations are characterized by speech patterns peculiar to them (called congo speech). Lipski's stated purpose (2) and his plan of attack (8) are to describe linguistically the Costa Arriba congo speech patterns generally incomprehensible to the uninitiated, and to measure the evolution of this speech with regard to patterns of creolization and African influences on the Spanish of Latin America. He succeeds brilliantly in both efforts.

The five chapters that comprise this text present an overview of the congos, their speech, and their rituals. The rituals, inherently tied to their speech patterns, are in fact demystified in this book. Chapter 1 defines concretely and concisely the topic and the methods Lipski plans to use. Chapter 2 handles morphological, syntactic, and semantic traits of the speech, ranging from verbal restructuring to those vestigial attributes shared with speakers of American Spanish varieties found in the United States. The third and fourth chapters deal with phonological traits of congo speech and comparisons with general Panamanian Spanish; herein Lipski's work reveals interesting correspondences between congo speech and other American Spanish varieties. Finally, in chapter 5, Lipski speculates on the possible bases for congo speech patterns and characteristics; he strongly suggests (85-86) that congo speech shows little or no connection with creole or bozal Afro-Iberian dialects.

The references are minutiae of useful sources referring to Spanish dialectology and creole studies in several languages. The appendix occasions a view at what Lipski really undertook; it provides a script of many hours of taped interviews which give ample indication of the author's dedication to details. Indeed, he acquired the characteristics of a cultural anthropologist by becoming a part of the Costa Arriba Congo community over a period of months in the mid 1980s.

The dearth of typographical errors (specifically, p. 2 Panaman's for Panama's, p. 90 paragraphing errors, p. 106 does meant for does mean) heralds the overall excellent caliber of the printing.

Although the early pages of the text assume some prior knowledge of linguistics, the text would certainly be accessible not only to linguists, but also to anthropologists, sociologists, historians, folklorists, and other scholars interested in this area of study. The present book is certainly a perfect companion for Lipski's 1990 treatise, The Language of the Isleños (Baton Rouge, Louisiana State University Press), which continues his interest in creole studies and varieties of Spanish outside Spain. We as linguists can only hope Lipski will continue in his prodigious ways of producing superior, in-depth essays on little studied areas of Spanish dialectology.

Thomas M. Stephens

Rutgers University

This translation of Pérez Galdós's first novel came out several months before Editorial Hernando published facsimile editions of the 1868 manuscript and the 1870 La Guirnalda version with an accompanying textual, historical, thematic and comparative study by Pedro Ortiz Armengol. The novel in question, then, has suddenly sprung into a place of prominence in the Galdosian canon, with new accessibility being offered to general readers and specialists.

The Rubin translation is of the 1870 first or «happy ending» edition of the novel. And even though Rubin and Hernando, following both normal textual guidelines and Galdós's implicit will (there was only one edition of the difficult-to-find 1871 «tragic ending» version of the novel), agree in privileging the first edition, Armengol's discussion of the two versions gives pause. The tragic ending -which presents the murder of the protagonist by his absolutist uncle- is that found in the manuscript, and is more in accord with the overall Galdosian vision of the Spain of Fernando VII.

Rubin's translation is more than serviceable despite a few infelicities and inconsistencies in his   —696→   handling of place and street names. For example on page 16, the second of novel text, he translates «Carrera de San Jerónimo» as «Saint Jerome Avenue» in the second and third paragraphs, but in the fourth renders «La entrada de la Carrera» as «the Carrera's entrance» (see also pp. 265 and 293: «San Jeronimo Avenue»). The reader not familiar with Madrid and Spanish is probably left confused and the reader familiar with both, annoyed. And because the first chapter, titled «Saint Jerome Avenue, 1821» («La Carrera de San Jerónimo en 1821»), sets the scene for much of the action in the novel, this confusion and annoyance may bulk larger than they should in a generally good translation.

For six of the novel's forty-three chapters Walter Rubin supplies historical notes. This reader did not find them especially helpful and wonders if a short, general historical introduction to the historical personages and issues of the times might not have been more advisable.

Now, despite these objections, it is clear that Rubin and the Latin American Literary Review Press (which normally does not publish Peninsular Spanish materials) have done a great service to Hispanism and Galdós. They have supplied in an attractive, sturdy trade-paperback format an important Spanish novel of the nineteenth century in English. Priced at $17.95 it can be used in many classes of European literature, particularly those in which the historical novel is studied. Moreover in this first novel the Galdosian insight into character is revealed fullblown in the three Porreño women. Finally, classes in Latin American studies may find this picture of Spain during the time of American independence movements most revealing.

Stephen Miller

Texas A&M University

This selection of some 500 greguerías, together with a useful list of other works by Gómez de la Serna in English translation, two brief bibliographies, a keyword index, and a critical introduction, is an admirable attempt at a thankless, and ultimately impossible, task. An inveterate advocate of this unique and prolific twentieth-century author, as evidenced by his enthusiastic introduction to the present volume as well as his recent monograph A Labyrinth of Imagery: Ramón Gómez de la Serna's «Novelas de la nebulosa» (London: Tamesis, 1986), Miguel González-Gerth has undertaken his mission with commendable honesty through the use of a «bilingual format», thus allowing his readers -at least those who have learned «sufficient Spanish to enjoy what Gómez de la Serna has to offer in the oceanic scope and variety of his production»- to judge for themselves as to whether or not his versions are, as the translator believes, «the best that English has so far accommodated of the Ramonesque idiom» (35). The problems posed by such an enterprise are insurmountable. Consequently, whether one reads the text in English first and then in Spanish, or vice versa, or else chooses to ignore the original and concentrate instead solely upon the translation, one finds oneself alternately satisfied or frustrated for a number of reasons, many of them directly attributable to Ramón, whose very fecundity and lack of editorial self-discipline often led to very uneven results, especially in the case of the various miscellaneous (i. e. non-thematic) collections of greguerías he published over his lifetime. And yet it is precisely from the author's Total de greguerías (Madrid: Aguilar, 1955) that González-Gerth makes his own selection of «aphorisms», which, he states, «have not been rearranged with regard to subject matter or their date of composition (which is unknown), or any other consideration» (35).

The resulting juxtaposition of humor and lyricism, poetic heights and occasional prosaic plunges, together with a potpourri of themes, is as disconcerting here as it is in the original. This is not a collection to be read from cover to cover; instead the book should be opened at random and savored bit by bit. The pleasure from reading Ramón comes from the very geniality of his unique vision of the world around him: he constantly surprises us into seeing things in a different way. And when he succeeds -which is certainly not always- he soars. That's a hard thing for any translator to capture, especially when there is humor involved. Sometimes González-Gerth is on target («La lechuga es toda enaguas»/«Lettuce is all skirts» [72-73], or «Los recuerdos encogen como las camisetas»/«Memories shrink like undershirts» ([130-31], for instance); other times he seems unnecessarily wordy (i. e. «Todavía no ha inventado la naturaleza la fruta con cáscara de cierre relámpago»/«Nature has not yet come up with a fruit that has a zipper for easy peeling» [54-55], or «El sueño es el depósito de objetos extraviados»/«Sleep is a place where lost articles may be found» [62-63]); or even too concise («La prisa es lo que nos lleva a la muerte»/«Haste kills» [54- 55]). And then there are the inevitable and hopelessly untranslatable -plays on words (such as «Bancarrota es la caída del banquero del sillón roto»/«Bankruptcy is when a banker falls down from a broken chair» [64-65]).

Ramón Gómez de la Serna, the great, intuitive prose poet of the Spanish vanguard and standard bearer of the Generation of 1927, defies all logic. Perhaps only another wizard of words would effectively recreate in English his brilliant and peculiar style. Miguel González-Gerth, for his part, is so innately logical that he even insists upon calling greguerías «aphorisms», a decision justified by him at great length in his introduction but with which this reviewer begs to differ, for, in the words of José Camón Aznar, «La greguería produce asombro. El aforismo, meditación» (Ramón Gómez de la Serna en   —697→   sus obras

[Madrid: Espasa-Calpe, 1972] 246).

Carolyn Richmond

Brooklyn College and The Graduate Center, CUNY

This novel is by no means an easy read, in the original Portuguese or in Rabassa's excellent translation, though in either case the reader's effort is well worth while. In other words, the English (like its Portuguese predecessor), reads well (what Rabassa translation does not?), but the textual puzzles on which it is built, remain for the grappling. In his translation Rabassa elucidates some of these internal «difficulties», though without minimizing their aesthetic impact and artistic appeal. This current edition of Avalovara is actually a re-edition of a translation that appeared in 1979, published then by Alfred A. Knopf. Given the novel's inherent structural and thematic challenges to the reader, however dedicated and resourceful, one wonders as to the motivation of the University of Texas Press (certainly much less commercially-minded than the usual publishing venture), for the market will surely be at least somewhat limited. This is not to discourage readership, only to justify the time and trouble required to come to grips with what Rabassa (in an article in World Literature Today, 53 (1979) 30-35) has called «the shape and shaping of the novel». The translation, besides opening the novel to a non-Portuguese-reading public, also points toward the translator's interpretation of the text. The current volume, then, is an act of critical scholarship, informed by the original novel and informing its subsequent readings, whether in English or in Portuguese. So Rabassa's translation should make Lins's text more accessible to readers, even if they are able to read Portuguese. The translation will serve as a useful tool for all students of the novel, given the multilingual light it can shed on it. Rabassa follows the Portuguese stride for stride, even to the extent that he leaves out letters from certain words, as did the author (78) and renders literally into English Lins's apparent error in the title of Curtius's book Literatura Européia e Idade Média Latina, as mentioned in one of the epigraphs.

Throughout the novel, the translator succeeds in conveying the acute linguistic sensibility that characterizes the Brazilian original, making the reader in English feel the Portuguese behind and within his translation. One of the principal characters describes what she calls a «yolyp», a strange being which lives inside certain others in the novel.

The Portuguese text is like a yolyp, contained within the English version. At times it may seem like a parasite or a prisoner (as the yolyp described in the novel may be), but always it sustains/is sustained by its host/parent. Other languages also figure in this polyglot: expressions in Latin (it is a palindrome in this language that describes much of the novel's basic structure), Italian, and French often are left in the original. On occasion, even Portuguese figures in the text, though with the English equivalent in parentheses. This technique is not awkward at all, but rather serves to enhance the ratified aura of Lins's work. Moreover, there are times when the translation may even be more felicitous, at least to my ear, than the original, as when Rabassa renders the frequent chapter heading «História de Nascida e Nascida» as «Story of, Twice Born». The question of who this is stands as only one of the mysteries of Avalovara. What is no mystery is that the translator would invest the kind of time and effort required to produce this sort of rendering. As Rabassa asserts in his article, Lins' novel is nothing less than «apocalyptic», figuring at the very forefront of what he terms Latin American writers' «essential understanding of the importance of collective creation in literature» (35). In the translation as in the original, «the frustrations entailed by the necessity of creation on the part of the readership come right to the surface» (35), but the labor, for the translator and for his readers, is more than justified.

Kevin S. Larsen

University of Wyoming

Helena Parente Cunha's Woman Between Mirrors (Mulher no espelho), one of the most striking and innovative novels to appear in Brazil in the nineteen eighties, is finally available in English thanks to a joint effort by Fred P. Ellison and Naomi Lindstrom. This sensitive and highly readable translation should be welcomed not only by the general English-speaking public, but most especially by students and teachers in Comparative Literature and Women's Studies courses, who now have access to another quality text by a contemporary Third World writer.

Woman Between Mirrors bears unquestionable evidence that post-modern self-consciousness does not have to yield a cold and cerebral text, as is the case with so many North American metafictionists, but can be used, rather, to generate a fictional text in which innermost feelings and powerful emotions unabashedly play a central role. By ingeniously splitting the protagonist between the «I» who speaks and «the woman who writes me», Parente Cunha creates a tension that, while deconstructing the confessional genre, moves her narrative beyond the hackneyed question of reliability and opens up new possibilities for characterization. Although it obviously functions as a correlative for the conflicting demands placed upon women living in a patriarchal society, that experimental technique, by weaving the narrative thread back and forth between the images in the mutually reflecting «mirrors», gives the text a dynamic quality that subverts the static conventions of   —698→   that society. This is not surprising since, as the meditation on the nature of writing in Chapter 19 clearly indicates, fiction is viewed here as a liberating enterprise, to the extent that it allows one to recreate reality and transcend the repetitive banality of the quotidian. Ultimately it is via the aggressive interplay between the «I» and «the woman who writes me» that the protagonist grows into an assertive and independent female, who is able to stand up against the oppression of both the conventional roles imposed on woman by Brazilian patriarchal society and the prepackaged clichés forged by the international women's liberation movement.

Despite its use of universal elements such as the mirror, Parente Cunha's novel is deeply rooted in Brazilian reality, from its representation of the provincial society of Bahia, to its choice of symbols such as the mango and the mango tree, to its use of quintessentially Brazilian motifs such as Carnival and the Afro-Brazilian religion of «candomblé». It is significant that the protagonist's transformation starts during Carnival, a time characterized by the inversion of «normal» societal rules. It is also important that during this transformation the protagonist becomes increasingly identified with Afro-Brazilian culture, not only because an analogy is developed between the enslavement of Blacks and the oppression of women, but also because the recovery of African roots by the protagonist represents the recovery of primordial freedom.

In translating this magnificent novel, Ellison and Lindstrom were particularly successful at finding an American English equivalent for Parente Cunha's mellifluous poetic prose, without falling into a lofty, overblown rhetoricity. It is hard to find fault with this superb translation, but I would like to point out two problems that seem to be out of line with the quality of Ellison and Lindstrom's work. On page 52 they translate the word «máquina» as «machine». Could this be an oversight, since in every other instance the word máquina is more correctly translated as typewriter? The second problem is somewhat more serious. While in first grade, the protagonist is embarrassed by not knowing the meaning of bote, a less common Portuguese word for a small boat than barco or barquinho. The translators choose to use the English word boat, whereas perhaps a less common word such as dinghy might have been preferable. It seems unlikely that such a bright child as the protagonist wouldn't know the meaning of boat, although, at that age, it is conceivable that she wouldn't know what bote (in Portuguese) or dinghy (in English) meant. Although both boat and dinghy miss the association between bote and the verb botar (that is «to put»), which is played upon in the Portuguese text, it seems to me that the choice of dinghy over boat would be more appropriate in this context. This suggestion, however, is not meant to denigrate in any way the excellent translation by Fred Ellison and Naomi Lindstrom. We are lucky to have translators as sensitive to the nuances of the Portuguese language as our two colleagues from the University of Texas.

Finally, I would like to call attention to the translators' preface, which contains an enlightening and lucid discussion not only of the problems they faced in translating Parente Cunha's novel, but of problems faced by translators in general. This interesting preface is a welcome complement to a first-rate translation.

Luiz Fernando Valente

Brown University

Cecília Meireles, uma das mais importantes poetas brasileiras, dizia em sua obra que «andava à procura de espaço para o desenho de sua vida»; assim também peregrina a Literatura Luso-Brasileira em terras norte-americanas. Por ser escrita numa língua muito pouco conhecida, fica relegada a um «segundo plano» por vezes terrível, senão constrangedor. Por quê?

A resposta, caso fosse dada, seria longa e transcenderia o escopo desta resenha. No entanto, os três livros acima (associados à pertinícia de Mécia de Sena) trazem novas luzes e algumas esperanças para a compreensão da literatura luso-brasileira neste país. Jorge de Sena, como se sabe, é um dos maiores intelectuais portugueses deste século. Sua obra, vastíssima, estende-se do teatro à crítica, passando pela poesia e pela prosa; como se vê, um artista total. Apesar disso, este universo fica relegado a um «segundo plano» já que foi basicamente escrito em português. Esta é, portanto, a tarefa destes livros: tornar acessível ao leitor anglo-saxão esta obra impressionante e sensacional, pontilhada de descobertas que o deixarão atônito em cada página, em cada conto, em cada referência, a todo momento.

O primeiro livro nos traz um estudo minucioso e bastante profundo da relação estabelecida entre a música e a prática poética de Jorge de Sena. Partindo do «humanismo» em/de Jorge, o autor vai progressivamente retraçando a visão do mundo, veiculada pelo poeta, através das suas realizações mais importantes. Há um debruçar-se profundo nas interrelações encontradas entre a poesia e a musicalidade na tentativa de desentranhar um significante que, flutuando enquanto matéria-prima lingüística, configura a realidade mais imediata (e não só) e as poéticas musicais do universo seniano (se pode utilizar tal neologismo).

Uma das principais características do estudio concentra-se na questão de «mímemis», ou seja, como a «realidade» (seria o real possível?) se transforma em   —699→   matéria artística; em poesia da mais alta qualidade, no caso deste extraordinário poeta português dos nossos dias. Há, por assim dizer, um elemento de mediação que, informando toda a obra, ou melhor dizendo, percorrendo toda a estrutura significativa da obra de Sena, articula-se como elemento aglutinador (e não só) capaz de operacionalizar tal transformação. De maneira inteligente e sutil, o articulista vai desentranhando os processos mais escondidos dessa «floresta de signos», passando a fornecer ao seu leitor uma chave possibilitadora do conhecimento. O signo, os signos se transformam em elementos de apreciação, de degustação, colocando o leitor numa tópica de fruição das mais oportunas e «gozozas» (se concebe a expressão barthesiana como tal). O significante, sofrendo transformações as mais distintas, se transmuda em significado, oferecendo uma integração perfeita entre fundo e forma. Alquimia somente possível no caso dos grandes poetas e dos mais requintados críticos.

Os outros dois livros agenciam a poesia e a prosa de Jorge de Sena como moeda corrente neste mercado tão escasso da literatura luso-brasileira em terras anglo-saxãs.

Art of Music: Jorge de Sena, traduzido por Francisco C. Fagundes e James Houlihan, coloca à disposição do leitor de língua inglesa uma série de poemas de Jorge de Sena, proporcionando-lhe o conhecimento de uma das práticas poéticas mais interessantes do século XX. São poemas, como o próprio título indica, ligados à música, elemento estruturador e estruturante dessa «Poiesis». Além disso, a fim de que se conheça mais sobre este multifacetado artista, há a tradução dos seus célebres posfácios e explicações a respeito das respectivas poesias. Poeta primeiro, artista de grande alcance, Jorge de Sena establece a sua prática artística como uma junção entre poesia e crítica. Antecipando-se aos movimentos pós-estructuralistas, a obra seniana transforma-se numa arena para a qual convergem elementos dos mais variados campos do conhecimento. Intelectual consciente do seu trabalho, Sena proporciona ao seu leitor uns caminhos para que este seja conduzido «a mares nunca dantes navegados». Sua (auto-)crítica vista, por exemplo através desse posfácio, revela-nos a pertinência e a agudeza do seu pensamento (quer seja aplicado/aplicável a sua poesia, quer à explicação crítica). Assim, agora, o leitor poderá conhecer de mais perto esta obra importante e anexá-la ao seu universo de fruição.

A tradução afigura-se como competentíssima, já que um dos autores tem pleno conhecimento da obra de Sena, possuindo inclusive outros trabalhos a respeito do referido poeta. Uma obra indispensável em qualquer biblioteca que seja operada por alguém estudioso da cultura portuguesa.

O segundo trabalho, By the Rivers of Babylon and Other Stories, também traz-nos a magnífica obra de Jorge de Sena, mas dessa vez através dos seus contos. Editado e prefaciado pela professora Daphne Patai, com traduções dessa especialista e de alguns outros colaboradores, o livro faz circular onze contos dos mais interessantes de Jorge de Sena. Aqui, mais uma vez, vamos entrar em contacto com o esplendor da obra do artista português mais do que «trezentos ou trezentos e cinqüenta», a fim de se roubar a metáfora andradina. Os contos oferecem ao leitor a complexidade do universo seniano, bem como sua leveza no escrever e em compor teias e tramas. Neste sentido, a tradução guarda a dinâmica do processo criativo de Sena, adaptando-a, como não poderia deixar de ser, às especificacidades da língua inglesa.

Nestes contos, estabelecendo uma possibilidade de mímesis das mais radicais, Sena nos mostra como a realidade pode (e deve) ser transformada através da arte (da narrativa, neste caso específico). Partindo de elementos indeléveis da cultura portuguesa (como, por exemplo, o título da coletânea de contos extraído de Camões), Sena vai conduzir-nos a entender dramaticamente os percursos dessa mesma cultura no contexto microscópico do conto. Como diria Eduardo Lourenço, Sena vai tentar, com este trabalho, estabelecer uma «psicanálise do destino português» ao mesmo tempo que oferece ao seu leitor célebres exercícios de transcodificação poética. A intertextualidade presente nos contos, antes de ser exercício artesanal, apresenta-se como elemento estruturador desse universo complexo e escorregadio da cultura portuguesa. Apreender este universo movente é uma tarefa difícil e de quase impossível realização, porém a destreza de Sena faz com que nos sintamos à vontade, fruído espetacularmente a sua capacidade de narrativização.

Em suma, três livros excelentes que colocam à mão do leitor uma das literaturas mais desconhecidas nestas terras através de um dos seus mestres do século XX. A não perder, pois.

Francisco Caetano Lopes Junior

Stanford University

Adélia Prado, a poet and prose writer from Minas Gerais, has been winning a great deal of attention in Brazil in recent years, particularly since Carlos Drummond de Andrade, in his widely-read column, proclaimed her a medium for the spirit of Francis of Assisi. Her work has been making its way into English largely through the efforts of Ellen Watson, who has been publishing translations of Prado's poems in anthologies, magazines, and a chapbook. The Alphabet in the Park offers a worthy, albeit monolingual, sampler of Prado's work.

The cover photograph shows Prado looking equally earthy and elegant, accurately foreshadowing her poetry, grounded in primitive realities of life, yet knowingly conversant with the poetic past. Prado's verse gives the initial effect of being uncerebral, with its frequent references to such primal matters as cooking, eating, screaming, spitting, eliminating, snoring,   —700→   and giving birth. Women's erotic expression has been a focus of the recent Brazilian cultural scene, and Prado has been attracting some of that attention. In Alphabet, one female speaker is heard musing, of a coarse young man, «But he's got a rump so seductive/ I fall desperately in love with him» (42), while another, eyeing chickens' «wattles and coxcombs» becomes «A woman startled by sex,/ but delighted» (28). Intensifying the impression of an uncontrived, here and now poetry are the allusions to Catholic culture. The speaker in Prado's poems lives Catholicism with the matter-of-fact concreteness of popular religiosity, turning for relief to «our God Who is a big mother hen» (52).

Still, it is too easy to be enraptured by the notion of artless, but marvelous, poetry emanating from an earth mother. Prado's poetry half-hides its intellectual and literary renovation that starts with Brazilian modernismo, with special reference to fellow mineiro authors. This verse stands in an instantly recognizable, but complex, relation to Drummond's work. Prado's literary rendering of local scenes has affinities with the novels of João Guimaraes Rosa, though it would be hard to isolate a Rosa-derived stylistic trait in the work of a poet who underplays linguistic invention. Prado's originality is nowhere stronger than in her bonds with other writers' work.

Watson's selections effectively showcase Prado for English-language readers. While her effusive introduction can really make one wince (Prado «experiences great spiritual craving» [viii]), the important thing is that Prado's poems in Watson's translations make excellent poetic reading.

Naomi Lindstrom

University of Texas at Austin

Another Way to Be. Selected works of Rosario Castellanos. Edited and translated by Myralyn F. Allgood. Foreword by Edward D. Terry, Athens: U. of Georgia P, 1990. 146 pp.

BUERO VALLEJO, ANTONIO. The Shot (La detonación). Translated with an introduction and notes by David Johnston. Warminster: Aris &Phillips, 1989. 248 pp.

Cantigueiros, 2 (1988-1989). Bulletin of the Cantigueiros de Santa María. Lexington: Society of the Cantigueiros, 1989. 90 pp.

COLLINS, MARSHA SUZAN. Pío Baroja's Memoria de un hombre de acción and the Ironic Mode. The Search for Order and Meaning. London: Tamesis Books, 1986. 194 pp.

ENCINAR, ÁNGELES. Novela española actual: La desaparición del héroe. Madrid: Editorial Pliegos, 1990. 200 pp.

GOLDEMBERG, ISAAC. Actualidades Video. Viewer's Manual prepared by Luis Verano. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1989. 105 pp.

GONZÁLEZ, ALFONSO. Euphoria and Crisis. Essays on the Contemporary Mexican Novel. Fredericton, N. B. (Canada): York Press, 1990. 71 pp.

IRVING, EVELYN UHRHAN DE. Ruben Darío y el Tesoro de Bellas Artes Modernas. Cedar Rapids, Iowa: Cedar Graphics, Inc., 1990. 46 pp.

MARTÍ, JOSÉ. Los zapaticos de rosa. Versión al inglés, introducción y notas de Leopoldo Barroso. Montclair, N. J: Senda Nueva de Ediciones, 1990. 45 pp.

REINA, ELENA. Hacia la luz: Simbolización en la poesía de Emilio Prados. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1988. 283 pp.

RODRÍGUEZ, ALEIDA ANSELMA. Arqueología de Omagua y Dorado. Rende (Italy): Mediterranean Press, 1990. 220 pp.

TORGA, MIGUEL. Tales from the Mountain. Translated from the Portuguese by Ivana Carlsen. Uncorrected page proof. Fort Bragg, California: Q. E. D. Press, 1991. 160 pp.

WALZ, JOEL. Annotated Bibliography for Developing Oral Proficiency in Second and Foreign Languages. Quebec: Centre Internacional de Recherche sur le Bilinguisme, 1989. 63 pp.

WHEALEY, ROBERT H. Hitler and Spain. The Nazi Role in the Spanish Civil War. Lexington: UP of Kentucky, 1989. 269 pp.

Hispania [Publicaciones periódicas]. Volume 74, Number 3, September 1991